Support
by CMW2
Summary: "I'm not gonna let you face this alone and I'm not gonna pretend this isn't happening like the others. It is and the only way you're gonna get through this intact is with help and support, which you're getting from me until you get better whether you like it or not."- Reid is detoxing. Emily's there for him;Rated for words and spice;14th in my 2012 SSS Project;NOW COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: I've been enjoying reruns of the show at work and A&E's doing the Reid's on Drugs Arc, prompting this throwback bunny to bite me in the neck. I've always wondered how Emily and Reid had ended up with a friendship in the aftermath of his addiction and I think I've finally come up with something good.  
**

**I am not a doctor or a nurse or anything like that. I've never had to detox from anything or be around someone who has but I've had the stomach flu multiple times and from what I've seen in documentaries much of detox is similar. I know this fic is rated M but it's more for language and the detoxing itself instead of my usual spice and I hope you guys enjoy the fic. **

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_Emily…is that you?_"

"Yeah. I'm coming in."

She pushed the ajar door open fully and blinked at the change in lighting. The rest of the house was dark and the curtains drawn, keeping all but the most stubborn day light out.

"I brought you some more saltines and ginger ale."

"_Water._"

"I'll get you some."

"_Thank you._"

Placing down her grocery bag, Emily Prentiss took a good look at Spencer Reid and winced. He looked absolutely terrible. He was near ghostly pale and there was a visible tremor to his form, like the slightest touch would shatter him. His lithe body was mostly on the tiled floor of his bathroom, his forearms supporting him on the toilet seat. Sweat was pouring out of him, making his honey colored hair stick to his head in curls and his bare back shine until the waistband of his gray sweats. A soft groan escaped him as she turned on the tub, quickly filling the empty water jug. His head turned to her and bloodshot hazel eyes looked at her glassily, his forearm becoming a pillow…

"_You can go now. I…I got rid of all of it…and…and I threw my shoes, wallet, and my keys down the laundry chute. I…I'm not going anywhere anytime…oh, **god**…"_

She winced as his face disappeared into the toilet basin and his whole body heaved as he vomited. It was mostly water and bile but she could see bits of the soup she had brought him the night before. Emily knelt down next to him and he gripped a handful of her hoodie sleeve like an anchor. Impulsively, she slipped behind him and hugged him as gently as she could, his coughing heaves sending his surprisingly broad shoulders into her face occasionally.

"_Emily_…" he whimpered as he glanced to where she had been and didn't see her.

Her hand rubbed up his spine, following the vertebrae and he looked at her with stark miserable relief as she moved her head into his field of vision.

"I'm here, Spencer…I'm not leaving you…let it out…talk to me…"

He shook his head and rasped, "…_hurts…need to…but I can't…and…I can't do this_…"

'That's bullshit." she dismissed with calm fire. "You've got a 187 IQ, 3 PhDs, and you're not even 30 yet. You took care of your schizophrenic mother all by yourself and you got into the fucking BAU at 23. During all that, you never gave up and you're for damned fucking sure not giving up now, not while I'm around."

His face twisted and he snapped, "Why the fuck do you even care?" before succumbing to the nausea again.

The venom didn't even faze her anymore. After he flushed the vomit to the sewer, he slumped back against her, sending them onto their asses.

"You're my friend, Spencer. You've one of the few real friends I've got and no matter how much of a bastard you are towards me, that's not changing anytime soon. I'm not gonna let you face this alone and I'm not gonna pretend this isn't happening like the others. It is and the only way you're gonna get through this intact is with help and support, which you're getting from me until you get better whether you like it or not."

His head dropped forward and he sniffled quietly, taking one of her hands. She could practically wrap her arms fully around him, indicating that he had definitely lost weight he couldn't spare. Once he was over the hump, she'd break out her Nona's recipe books and see about getting him back to full strength. Emily had always loved to cook but cooking for one lost its appeal after awhile…

"Thank you."

"The best way you can thank me is to keep fighting and get better. You think you can stand up, now?"

"Not without help."

She slid from behind him and pulled him up by the armpits, allowing him to brace a hand on the sink before pulling away. His sweats slipped down and he pulled them up quickly, a slight flush tinting his cheeks as she smiled.

"It's all right. I've seen you puke now. Besides, Spongebob boxers aren't anything to be ashamed of. We match now."

Reid snorted as she pointed at her Sandy Cheeks pajama pants and he splashed a little water on his face.

"Garcia bought them for me. Said my wardrobe needed more flare. Whatever the hell that means…I want to sleep."

"Sleep would be good. Can you make it?"

"Yeah."

Emily watched as he crossed to his bed and collapsed like a tree into the tangled bedding. She put a red bucket below where his head rested and placed the crackers, water, and soda within easy reach. Once he was situated, she pulled a mismatched pair of hospital gripper socks on his feet and started making the bed over him. The sheets were still Gain fresh, indicating that he spent the night in the bathroom and the comforters were plush in shades of blue and green, a purple one completing the set.

"You good?"

"As good as it gets."

"All right. My phone's on if you need anything and I'll be back with some more soup around 5."

She turned towards the door but a single phrase made her freeze.

"Stay with me."

"What?"

"Please? I still get…images…and…stay with me? I know it's your day off but…"

Emily held up a hand to stop him and gamely slipped into bed with him, his body turning towards her slowly.

"I'll try my best not to puke on you. No promises."

"Don't worry about that. Just sleep. I'm here for you."


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Apparently, that plot bunny neck bite was harder than I thought it was. I'm delighted at the positive responses to this one and I'm determined to keep this one short. Who knows? I said that with my last Reid/Prentiss fic and it ended up being 35 chapters. But, no matter. Let's keep the party going. Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"How are you, Spencer?"

He toyed with a loose thread of his beige cardigan and looked up through his lashes shyly. He still wasn't comfortable with talking so frankly about his inner thoughts but it was necessary. He wanted to get better. He had to get better. Talking, as hard as it was, would be a big help in making him better. Not healed…never healed but better…

"I still get the shakes and the headaches but I'm not throwing up anymore. And…and my flashbacks aren't as bad as before. Before, they felt like I was still there but now, it's like watching a suspense movie from the outside in. I know the outcome but it's still scary to remember the pain and the loss of control."

"Ah. How's your job?"

"I've decided to take some time off. Not permanently but…I need some time away to get through my own monsters before trying to catch others."

"Have you been talking to your other teammates?"

"A little and not about the Needle. I…I don't want to talk about it and they don't want to hear about it."

"Why do you say that?"

"They blame themselves for what happened. Since I'm the youngest, they've always felt this need to protect me from the really bad things in our job but Henkel kept them from doing that. They had to watch me be tortured and shot up and…I think they blame themselves for the Needle, too but they _**shouldn't**_. It was my choice to take those vials afterwards. It was my choice to shoot up and hide it from them. It was my choice to bite people's heads off and hurt feelings."

"And by people, you mean Emily mainly."

Spencer sighed and lay down on the plush couch, looking at the mural on the ceiling. Dr. Jemma King's office was a converted warehouse loft and also served as an art studio. She did mosaics mainly but the large Japanese garden at night that kept his interest. It was a scene of peace and tranquility, of beauty and warmth, a place of solace.

"Yeah. She's been sticking like glue this whole time and I'm grateful for it, honest but I'm just…confused. Why would the person I've been a raging son of a bitch to the most be so determined to get me through this?"

"She cares for you, Spencer. Deeply."

"And so do the others but none of them have gone above and beyond like she has. Last month, she spent her whole day off, a very rare day off, mind you making sure I didn't choke on my own vomit and she…sometimes, I hear her come in with groceries in the middle of the day and she brings me books and she sleeps in the guest room at least 2 nights a week. She even keeps a go bag there, now and…and she's been feeding me constantly. Home cooked things. Really good home cooked things. "

"I can tell. You've put back on some much needed weight. How does she get into your place?"

"I told her where the spare key was and she never put it back. Thing is that I don't want her to put it back. I…she's in my private spaces and I_** like**_ it. My other teammates have never been to my place since we've been working together, not even Gideon but she's only been around for a little while and I gave her the key as easily as I read a map. Why? I don't understand why."

"From what you've told me, you and Emily seem to be kindred spirits in many ways, equals even. Perhaps you're just doing what comes naturally with her. She's shown you understanding and most importantly, unconditional acceptance, something you've indicated that you've lacked in your life."

"So that's why I want her close? It makes sense but what if it's all just a product of everything's that happened and once she thinks I'm better…"

_She'll leave me too? _

_**/**_

**Jacqueline Prentiss Comfort/Hearty Recipe #28: Russian Borscht***

**~*Materials needed*~**

2 tbsps **canola oil**

1 lb **lamb stew meat** (cut into 12 inch cubes)

1 **onion** (peeled and finely chopped)

3 1/2 qts **beef broth**

1/4 cup **red wine vinegar**

2 tbsps **lemon juice**

1 1/4 lbs **cabbage** (cored and shredded)

1 1/2 lbs **diced tomatoes** (ripe)

2 lbs **beets** (peeled and diced tops reserved)

2 **bay leaves**

1 tsp **salt**

1/2 tsp **black pepper** (freshly ground)

1 pt **sour cream**

1/4 cup **dill** (chopped)

**~*Instructions*~**

1) Heat canola oil over medium-high heat in a large stockpot until very hot. Add the cubed lamb, and sear until well browned. Stir in the onion, and cook until tender and translucent, about 2 minutes

2) Pour in the beef broth, vinegar, and lemon juice; add the cabbage, tomatoes, diced beets, bay leaves, salt, and pepper. Bring to a boil over high heat, then reduce heat to medium-low, cover, and simmer until the lamb and beets are tender, about 2 hours.

3) Chop the beet tops, stir into the borscht, and simmer an additional 15 minutes. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Garnish the soup bowls with a dollop of sour cream, and a sprinkling of dill after ladling in the soup.

* * *

"_That damned driven mother of yours schleps you all over god's green earth and can't even be bothered to have someone feed you properly. You look as weak and tired as a little lamb."_

"_Nona, I'm fine. Honest."_

"_Dolcezza, your daddy used to say that all the time when he was far from fine so after I feed your belly, we'll talk and feed your heart, eh? Now, sit down. I got just the thing for you."_

"_What?"_

"_Borscht, little one. Don't look at me like that. I know what I'm talking about. It's full of meats and veggies, it's delicious, and it'll make you strong like bull for the days ahead. Now, sit..."_

As always, her Nona had been right and when things were low, she'd always have a hankering for the stuff. She had found restaurants all over the world that could make it but those borschts weren't her Nona's. Emily figured that only she could make it in just the right way but she was determined to try now for Spencer…for _**Reid**_. She really had to get out of the habit of thinking of him as Spencer. Although he wasn't active, he was still a teammate, a co-worker. There had to be a boundary there for his return and he would come back. She didn't care how many placeholders Strauss found or the growing resigned sadness in the others' eyes, Emily had full faith in his ability to piece himself back together and come back stronger than ever.

_I know they don't mean it that way but it's really irksome how the others have essentially written him off. I know the BAU can destroy a soul as easily as a socialite makes and leaks a sex tape but come on! They've worked with him for years, Gideon even being his mentor yet they think him weak and broken, like a little boy. Well, they're wrong. Spencer may be the youngest but he's got a well of strength and depth that men twice his age would kill for…_

_**Someone sounds smitten**_, the ever present voice in her head chided with a wink and a nudge.

Smitten? Why would she be smitten? She's just a friend helping a friend.

**_Really? Friendship can only explain so much of your actions, Emily. Yes, friends bring each other food and yes, friends even hold you while you cry, at least the good kind of friends but you're putting a lot of faith in him. It's not misplaced but it's there. You haven't put faith in a guy in years, not since Matthew and you swore you wouldn't let yourself do that again for any guy. But, you're doing it for Spencer. Yes, _Spencer_. Don't you try and call him Reid, now. You say friendship but I see…_**

Now wasn't the time for such things. Spencer was over the Hump but detoxing never ended. The temptation for relapse would always be there and no matter what job he took, reminders of the case would be around. There would always be room for a bad day, a day where the flashbacks and the pain would be there just like it was happening in real time. The last he needed was her compartmentalization skills going straight to hell just because they spent more time together…and she had a key to his place…and she was turning into her Nona when it came to feeding him…

No. No, the voice was wrong. There was nothing but friendship there, deep real friendship but still, friendship. Nothing more and nothing less…

* * *

***Emily's grandmother's recipe was found on Yummly. Look under Helga's Russian Borscht. I've never had borscht myself but it sounds like just the kind of stick to your ribs comfort food a person would want in such times. I don't know for sure but it definitely fit with the story.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Good evening, everyone. The recipes are gonna become a permanent part of this story. When bad things happen to my friends and family, the first thing I want to do is cook (or bake, rather) and it's really fun to come up with flashbacks to Nona to go along with the dishes so the recipes stay. I'm pretty much certain that this is going to become a romance for our heroes but I really don't know how fast or slow things will go. It depends on the muses. Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

Reid couldn't sleep.

Insomnia had become a part of his life at a very young age. An overactive brain and imagination, worries about his sick mother, worries about ways to supplement the chicken scrap checks the government sent, worries about high school classes in a mercilessly bullied 5th graders body…he was pretty much doomed to lack of sleep from the start. That's why his name was now synonymous with sugar laced coffee among his friends. And opiate abuse. Don't forget the opiate abuse. No one could forget, including himself. 45 days sober, a whole lifetime to go, and the urge for the Needle still flared up like sunburn…would it always be like that?

The laundry chute was the first of many convoluted places to hide his means of getting around, his means of spending money when it got really bad. He had made a game out of it, now. His eidetic memory prevented him from forgetting where he stashed his stuff but the creativity had become a source of good entertainment, better than daytime soaps and vacuuming, anyway.

He was particularly proud of the one sneaker in the bread box, his keys in the pickle jar, his wallet on the library chandelier, and the other sneaker on the satellite dish combo. Of course, a sudden storm had almost ruined the sneaker but it was nothing hot water and the basement clothesline couldn't fix…

Reid couldn't sleep. He had another 2 weeks left of leave so burning the long past midnight oil was out. He had already finished the 3 papers he had been juggling before laying down and he wasn't hungry or thirsty so heading to the kitchen was out. The house was locked up tightly with the alarm on and he wasn't cold. His blue flannel pajama, mismatched fuzzy socks, and his old reliable electric blanket (Las Vegas could get seriously cold, as well as California…) saw to that. Briefly, he contemplated turning on the TV but it was pushing 3AM and he knew that nothing but infomercials, sitcom reruns, and porn would be on. Mostly porn, actually.

Even though he was 25, he never could truly understand the appeal of pornography or the aggressive pursuit of women to make his own pornography with. He was far from asexual (his brain may be a 50 year old's but his libido…) but he preferred to try and actually talk to women instead of just seeing them as warm bodies to fill a night. Now, he wasn't a virgin (he had left his virginity on his 23 year old Hindu TA's kitchen floor when he was 16, **_thank you very much, Morgan_**…) but Spencer really couldn't understand what all the fuss was about. Sex was good and all but if he wanted to get off, he had both his hands (he was ambidextrous) and the memories of reading the Kama Sutra for the aforementioned Hindu class to accomplish that goal…

_**Plus, the only woman you want touching you is Emily.**_, his subconscious deadpanned, making him blush at the honesty.

After everything with Elle, JJ, and even Lila, Spencer had quietly vowed not to let a woman, especially one he worked with, get under his skin ever again. Distance, his crippling shyness or another one of his delightful eccentricities led to inevitable failure and he absolutely hated to fail at anything. Plus, the deep pitying looks and the teasing from people (mainly Morgan...) who knew was just not worth the hassle of it all. After Elle's departure, he had decided to remain alone for the foreseeable future in the name of operating within his limitations and the preservation of the remaining, very preciously thinning shreds of his dignity and pride.

Of course, right after he had made that vow, Emily Elizabeth Prentiss entered the BAU stage right. Smart, funny, stubborn, empathetic, gentle, fierce Emily Elizabeth Prentiss…and he was right back on the unrequited-never-gonna-happen-you've-gotta-be-kidding-right, kid feelings hell train.

Shit.

In retrospect, his abrasiveness towards Emily (before and during the Needle) was more directed towards his heart and hormones for making him feel for her. She listened to him, even when he was in encyclopedia mode, she made sure to engage him in non-work related conversation and banter, and she had more than enough balls to face him head on, even at his bitchiest. Here was a woman that he could match wits with, here was a woman who could take him on and win, here was a woman…here was a woman he could fall in love with for the rest of his life. And it scared him. And when he failed at things or was scared to a point, he got mad and when he got mad, he got mean.

And when he got high, he got _**meaner**_, lashing out at any perceived threat or slight.

He was grateful for the New Orleans case. New Orleans helped him see that his mind was already starting to buckle under the pressure of maintaining his (not so) hidden addiction and that it was time to choose. The Needle or his sanity? The Needle or his physical health? The Needle or his career? The Needle or his friends turned family?

The Needle or Emily? Emily definitely deserved better than an addict…

Another thing he had to accept about his heart is when it set its crosshairs on a woman, only outright rejection or abandonment could undo it. His heart would tell his mind to do things for that woman, things she may like but take him far beyond his comfort zone, whether it was talking about an admittedly ugly painting and kissing fully clothed in a pool or drinking scotch in a shitty hotel room (before having half drunken sex in said shitty hotel room) or going to a football game on a freezing Sunday morning instead of watching the documentary on rise of Rome he had been trying to watch for months…or putting down the Needle sooner rather than later and plunging headfirst into the horror of Detox alone and cold turkey.

Well…at least this time, the actions he had taken had been worth it, even without any chance of a romance…

**_Are you _sure _there's no chance? You said it yourself, Emily's different than the other women you found yourself falling for. She gets you and even when she doesn't get you, she wants to. She reached out to you time and time again, even when you were a dick and doesn't hold that over your head, now. She's made herself head cheerleader on Team Sober Up, Genius. She helped you clean your vomit up and she takes time out of her life to cook for you. Not to mention the fact that she has stuff here in your house, without losing a bet…_**

None of that meant anything. Not really. She was just concerned for him and the fact that they were becoming close instead of being close from the get-go provided for with enough objectivity to be hands-on in his recovery. Any non platonic feelings were a one way street and that's how they would remain…

Right?

With a soft groan of defeat, Reid pulled the blankets over his head, determined to wrest a few hours of sleep out of Morpheus' clutches or die trying.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: Unless I can figure out how to write it, the events at the end of Season 2 (the Frank mini-arc) can be ignored but I think I'm gonna make Gideon leave in this AU, anyway. The signs of his departure had been apparent since the Pilot and of all the characters…it's not like I hate him but I don't really know how to incorporate him in a story. Plus, Gideon's departure opened the door for Reid to come into his own skin faster, in my humble fangirl opinion. **

**And I really started watching CM with the current team roster so I'm definitely gonna introduce Rossi into the game. After Reid (obviously...) and Morgan, Rossi's my favorite male lead and it just doesn't feel right to write a fic without him. We'll see. Enjoy the chapter.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

**-Jacqueline Prentiss' International Delight Recipes #10-12: Tandoori Spiced Chicken Breasts, Shrimp Biryani and Naan-***

**~*Materials Needed and Instructions (in order) *~**

**Tandoori Spiced Chicken Breasts**

1 **garlic clove**

1 1/2 tsps **coarse salt**

1 **green chile** (fresh red or serrano or cayenne)

1/3 cup **low-fat plain yogurt**

1 tbsp **fresh lemon juice**

2 tsps **ginger root** (grated peeled fresh)

1 1/2 tsps **coriander seeds** (ground)

3/4 tsp **turmeric**

1/2 tsp **ground cumin**

1/2 tsp **black pepper** (freshly ground)

1/4 tsp **grated nutmeg** (freshly)

1/8 tsp **ground cloves**

4 **boneless chicken breast halves** (skinless boneless chicken breast halves about 1 1/4 pounds total)

1 **red onion**

2 tsps **vegetable oil**

1/2 cup **low-fat plain yogurt**

1 tsp **fresh lemon juice**

1 pinch **cayenne**

1) Mince garlic with salt and mash to a paste. Wearing protective gloves, mince chile (including seeds for a spicier paste) and in a bowl stir together with garlic paste and remaining spice paste ingredients.

2) Make 3 diagonal cuts about 1/4 inch deep in each chicken breast and rub spice paste into cuts and all over chicken. Marinate chicken, covered, 30 minutes at cool room temperature.

3) Preheat broiler and line broiler pan with foil. Halve onion through root end and reserve 1 half for sauce. Thinly slice remaining onion half, separating layers, and in a small bowl soak onion slices in ice water to cover while broiling chicken.

4) Arrange chicken without crowding on rack of broiler pan. Brush chicken with 1 teaspoon vegetable oil and broil about 3 inches from heat 8 minutes. Turn chicken over and brush with remaining teaspoon vegetable oil. Broil chicken until lightly browned and just cooked through, about 6 minutes more.

5) Mince enough reserved onion to measure 1 tablespoon and in a small bowl stir together with all sauce ingredients.

6) Drain soaked onion and pat dry between paper towels. Top chicken with onion slices and serve with yogurt sauce.

**Shrimp Biryani**

3 lbs **shrimp** (peeled and deveined)

20 ozs **rotel tomatoes**

1 **onion** (chopped)

2 tsps **oil**

5 cups **rice**

1 cup **coriander** (finely chopped)

1 package **mixed spice** (fish biryani, shan brand)

1) Heat oven to 300 degrees F.

2) Cook rice in rice pot.

3) Heat oil and cook onions until golden brown.

4) Add tomatoes. Cook until dry.

5) Add fish biryani spice mix. Mix.

6) Add shrimp cook until almost done.

7) Add coriander.

8) Mix shrimp with rice.

9) Put in oven for 30 minutes.

10) Serve.

**Naan**

4 oz **active dry yeast**

1 cup **warm water**

1/4 cup **white sugar**

3 tbsps **milk**

1 **beaten eggs**

2 tsps **salt**

4 1/2 cups **bread flour**

2 tsps **minced garlic** (optional)

1/4 cup **melted butter**

1) In a large bowl, dissolve yeast in warm water. Let stand about 10 minutes, until frothy. Stir in sugar, milk, egg, salt, and enough flour to make a soft dough. Knead for 6 to 8 minutes on a lightly floured surface, or until smooth. Place dough in a well oiled bowl, cover with a damp cloth, and set aside to rise. Let it rise 1 hour, until the dough has doubled in volume.

2) Punch down dough, and knead in garlic. Pinch off small handfuls of dough about the size of a golf ball. Roll into balls, and place on a tray. Cover with a towel, and allow to rise until doubled in size, about 30 minutes.

3) During the second rising, preheat grill to high heat.

4) At grill side, roll one ball of dough out into a thin circle. Lightly oil grill. Place dough on grill, and cook for 2 to 3 minutes, or until puffy and lightly browned. Brush uncooked side with butter, and turn over. Brush cooked side with butter, and cook until browned, another 2 to 4 minutes. Remove from grill, and continue the process until all the naan has been prepared.

* * *

"_Nona?" 8 year old Emily yawned._

"_Oh, Emily. I'm sorry for waking you up so early."_

"_S'ok. The birds woke me up with their chirping. Spring's coming. You look pretty."_

_Nona smiled at her and shook her hips slightly, causing the golden bell belt around her hips to jingle. Her skirt was ankle length and purple with a golden vine design. She had on a sleeveless purple top and her silver hair was wrestled up into a braided bun, a light blue butterfly hair clip holding it together. A pair of dark gray slipper like shoes finished the look and Emily cocked her head in silent curiosity._

"_This, Little One…is what I was wearing when I married your Nono. Well, the let out version. I'm a little meatier now than I was then." she informed her warmly as she kneaded the naan dough._

"_But, I thought you were supposed to wear white when you get married."_

"_Yes, yes, that's traditional but as you know, tradition and I have a love/hate relationship. Your grandpa and I met in India. I was studying abroad there and he was a photographer for **National Geographic**. He's shown you his work…"_

"_My favorite picture is the one of the elephants near the Taj Mahal. It looks so pretty."_

"_Mm. Anyway, he and I decided to return to India for our honeymoon and as a thank you and a recreation of our first date, I cooked him this meal. And now on our anniversary, I cook it to share with him and my family."_

_Emily squealed as her grandfather picked her up and twirled her from behind. Her Nona laughed at his silliness and he entered the kitchen fully. Like her daddy, he was tall and skinny but his hair was silver and long instead of short and black. He was in blue flannel pajamas and the squeaky fuzzy bear slippers Emily had gotten for him in New York City._

"_And _**that**_ meal is the reason why you are here, Dolcezza. Your father is our ultimate honeymoon souvenir." Dominic Prentiss finished cheerfully, making her Nona blush and giggle as he spun them around the kitchen in a slow ring around the rosie circle. After 7 spins, her Nona stopped them and gave him a loud smooch on his scruffy cheek. Emily smiled sadly at the sight. Her parents never did silly married things like that. Her mother was always working and her father spent all his time split between his own darkroom and playing with her. Emily enjoyed the time with her daddy, don't get her wrong but sometimes, she wished her parents could be more like Nona and Nono._

_Maybe they'd all be happier…_

"_Happy 28th anniversary, you crazy man…"_

_Nona gave him a smacking kiss on his lips and he smiled dreamily._

"…_now, stop distracting me so I can get this done, eh?"_

"_Do you need any help, love?"_

"_Nico, you burn water!"_

"_It was just that one time and it was the tea kettle itself, not the water, woman!"_

"_It was both and the fire chief got to see me in my towel! Out, out, out…take the Little One with you!"_

"_Fine! Emily and I are gonna go on an adventure and you're not invited so...nyeh!" her Nono declared with childish indignation before sticking out his tongue, making them all laugh…_

* * *

A knock at her apartment door made Emily stop loading Tupperware long enough to pick up her gun. It was 6PM on a Friday night and instead of joining the team for a night at the bar, she was going to see Spencer. Their recently solved case had taken them to rural Texas, an UnSub kidnapping and murdering migrant workers. The man's justification had been the preservation of American jobs for Americans. The whole case had turned her stomach and she spent a lot of time at night talking to her favorite genius.

Over the phone, he had listened to her rave and contributed his own ideas, leading them to crack the case. It was just like he was there and it hit her just how incomplete the Team was without him. They still caught killers and saved lives but there was a hole there, a void that needed to be filled. His desk was left preserved, much to the disdain of Strauss and the filler agent (a Louis Martin transferred from Counter Terrorism) and Emily had nearly taken the annoyingly arrogant man's head off when he tried to sit there when they got back to the bullpen that early morning...

"_Look, Prentiss, I'm tired and it's just a chair…"_

"_It's not **your** chair. Get up. Now."_

"_You know, you're gonna have to get used to me being around. The kid's probably not coming back for at least another month and…"_

"_As a matter of fact, Spencer's leave is up on Monday and I know he'll be back in his seat where you don't belong and on this team where he does belong and you'll be gone. Fucking move, Martin. **Now.** I won't tell you again without kicking you where it hurts the most…"_

_With a mock salute, the blonde linebacker did so and headed home, leaving the rest of the team to look at her with varying levels of incredulity. In response, Emily had pushed the chair back in and clicked off the lamp. Grabbing her bag and a stack of files, she had walked through the team with her head held high and into the lobby. Before the glass doors shut behind her, she could hear JJ ask what was all on their minds._

"_**Spencer?**"_

She opened the door and Derek Morgan came in, looking at her like he was putting the puzzle together in his head.

"Morgan, if you're here to tell me that we have another case…" she started.

"Spencer? Since when do you call him Spencer?" he cut off.

"That's his first name and…"

"You've never used it outside of introducing him to people and not only did you use it in the bullpen, you did it while going all Sheldon Cooper meets Xena on Martin about his desk."

"It's really not Martin's desk and it's not like he's staying on the team for good. Look, I…"

"…and not only that, you talked to Reid all through this case. I could hear you through the wall…"

"I needed a sounding board and…"

"…and you're cooking Indian food for him, his favorite. You've been cooking for him for weeks now and I know you've been staying at his place a couple of times a week. Garcia traced your phone's GPS…"

"Why the hell did she…?"

"…you know how she is when she's curious. You've been secretive but happier. She thought you had a boyfriend but it turns out you were at Reid's. At first, I thought it was just you helping him get his head back on straight but this morning definitely proves that it's a lot more than that. What's going on, Emily?"

Emily sighed and went back to loading the Tupperware, trying and failing to ignore Morgan's gaze on her. While she usually put on sweats or pajamas on her visits, Emily had decided to wear her black hiphuggers and the bright red tank top that made everything look supermodel good. Instead of slippers or her running shoes, she had on her good black flats with silver sparkles dusted onto the leather. She had curled her hair and put on her raspberry lip gloss, lip gloss she usually reserved for…dates…_**dates**_…oh, god…

_**And the light goes on, ladies and gentlemen…**_

"Are you sleeping with him? I mean, if you are, that's great. Disturbing on a few levels but great…"

"I'm not. We're not…we're just friends, Morgan and what do you mean, disturbing? If he's old enough to shoot guns and shoot up opiates, he's old enough to get laid, don't you think?", she asked with a hand on her hip.

"Right. It's just that…it's _**Reid**_."

"So, what? Just because he's a little awkward and the youngest doesn't make him any less of a man. What? What's with the smirk?"

"You may not be sleeping with him but you've obviously thought about it. No, no…it's okay. Kid's had the hots for you since your first cases with us."

"Reid hated my guts until after New Orleans."

"That didn't stop him from looking at you like he wanted to lick you like an ice cream cone."

"You're disgusting."

"And right. Look, just think about it okay? And prepare to have this conversation with everyone else, too. Garcia's already picking china patterns for you two and once Martin opens his big damned mouth, Strauss is gonna want to talk, too."

"Oh, my god. Okay, you know what? The food's getting cold and I told him I'd be over there at 7:30 so…"

"Get out?"

"Now, please."

"Tell Lover Boy I say hi, okay?"

"_**Get out, Morgan.**_"

* * *

*** I _adore_ Indian food. If I could eat the stuff (and Gatorade and white chocolate…) all the time, I'd die a happy woman. My big sister got me into the cuisine, belly-dancing, saris, and Bollywood and as a matter of fact, listening to a Hindi romantic song (Tujh Mein Rab Dikhta Hai) with the English translation on loop on YouTube helped me write this chapter because I think it fits so well with our heroes and all the other couples and not-couples out there. The recipes are from Yummly again (I love that site...) and the Biryani is under Rabia's Famous Biryani. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: Good morning, everyone. And now for a journey into Emily's mind, more specifically, her mind on Reid. It's his first day back at work and although Martin has quietly faded into the abyss, her sharp actions towards him in defense of our favorite genius still require some 'splaining, both to the team and to herself. Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"Good morn-_**oof!**_"

Emily couldn't help but grin as Garcia nearly broke him in two in a hug. Reid wheezed out a laugh and hugged her back, gamely letting her steer him to his chair. Or rather, the chair right across from her. She shot the Tech Goodness a Look but she simply gave them an angelic smile before retreating to the bullpen.

"Good morning." he greeted softly, looking at her through his lashes.

Butterflies in her stomach, she looked at him through her own lashes.

"Hi. I'm glad you're back."

"Me too. I…um…I went shopping yesterday. I actually went to the mall."

"I can tell. You look good."

Actually, he looked _**great**_. He had put on at least 10 pounds and he had gotten some more color to him. His hair was growing out and taking on curls, some falling into his eyes. He had on a navy and gray pinstriped shirt, black jeans, and new dark purple sneakers. His brown messenger's bag had been replaced with a black one and he had gotten new glasses, black chunky square frames. With the smile playing at his lips and the genuine happiness in his amber eyes, he looked like something out of a Macy's catalog…

_**He looks long and lean…elegant, even. He's always been elegant in his own way… amazing what detox, a few meals, and non work time spent together can do to a girl's blinders…or compartmentalization skills…**_

"I feel good. Do you think we'll have a case, today?"

"Hopefully not. I'm still tired from Texas…and from Friday night."

A pink flush entered his cheeks and she smiled at the memory. After stuffing themselves silly with Indian food, Emily had impulsively turned his living room into a dance club for two. Using her iPod, she had turned on her Marathon Workout playlist and yanked him up to dance with her. He was surprisingly rhythmic, the awkwardness lost in the comfort of his own home and in the face of her acceptance. It was a night of laughter, warmth, and a shared sofa in front of _**The Alfred Hitchcock Hour**_.

It had been a very nice date.

Before all this happened, Emily would've never put Reid and date into a sentence, especially pertaining to her. She was just happy for the beginnings of his friendship. Her mind understood his aloofness. Elle had been a dear friend to him, maybe even a lover at one time and Emily joining the team drove home the fact that she wasn't coming back. There was guilt involved there, a plaintive sense of helplessness in the face of Elle's breakdown. Having been witness to such breakdowns herself, Emily knew that a lot of Reid's harshness had been a preemptive strike, a way of getting as much hurt out before it got in to get him again.

Still, it had hurt to feel his obvious ice, even as the others accepted her. Then…Henkel. Sometimes, Emily wished that the man was still alive just she could kill him herself for what he had done to Spencer. He had tortured him, drugged him, made him relive obviously painful events, made him dig his own grave…he was a monster and he had the audacity to hurt Spencer, to treat him like he was worthless and dirty and everything that he wasn't. Henkel had introduced the Needle into his life and the Needle had damned near ruined it, ruined him. The Needle had made Spencer mean and cold, his job performance suffering, the Team suffering…Emily had seen the endgame. Reid forced out, the team disbanded, the BAU's reputation tarnished, Reid losing everything and everyone until all he had left was the Needle. Emily had seen it all happen to people before, people she barely gave a shit about.

She certainly wasn't going let it happen to Spencer. Like the others, she was protective of him. One couldn't help but be protective towards him. Oh, he was far from weak. In 25 years, he had gone through emotional torments that would've shattered men double his age and experience. Emily knew he wasn't weak but…he was different. He was genuinely kind, genuinely honest, a bright spot in a dull world of hateful self absorption. To hurt him would be like hurting a butterfly, something pure that needed to be nurtured and loved. Once Emily had confirmed her suspicions, she had sprung into action, determined not to let his light burn out.

Sure, he could've gotten rid of the drugs on his own. He accomplished greater things but at what cost? What would letting him suffer alone really do in the long run? Would it make him feel like just a tool to them, someone they only cared about when it was convenient? That wasn't the case at all but once a person latched onto an explanation, a reason for why they were seemingly left in the cold, it was near impossible to be rid of it.

She didn't want him to draw that conclusion with her so she had done what she had done and now…now, things were different.

She still mulled over her actions against Martin, her conversation with Morgan, her behavior with Spencer…her behavior with _**Reid**_ and she had come to a conclusion.

She was starting to fall for him. Hard.

It scared her. Her past romantic entanglements had proven to be nothing sort of catastrophes. She either fell for a jerk, pushed them away by her own actions, or when she really gave it her all, they would betray or abandon her. Falling for Spencer was different. It wasn't the all consuming intensity she was used to. There was no instant roiling boil of sexual chemistry turned into something more. It was something sweeter, rooted deep like a tree instead of a whirlwind. It was out of her depth…

"Well, well…look what the cat drug in!"

Emily smiled as Reid reunited with the rest of the team, hugs and handshakes and smiles. Things felt right again, at least for that moment and hopefully, she would find a way to compartmentalize the feelings before she was completely overwhelmed.

Or was it too late for that?

Unconsciously, she began to use her left thumb to pick at her skin around her right hand nails.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Every time I see _Minimal Loss_, I just want to write or in this case update a Reid/Prentiss fic. The subtext between them all through it just calls to my shipper side, not to mention the Hug and the Hand Touch. One thing I'm not looking forward about the upcoming season is the lack of Emily but hopefully, they'll finally give Reid some substantial play, even if it's not from Emily.**

**I mean, come on. If Hotch can have a girlfriend, JJ can get married, Garcia can get into a potentially triangular situation with Lynch and Morgan (Morgan wins in my book) and Rossi can make googly eyes at _Strauss_ (I know full and danged well that I'm not the only person who saw that…), then Reid can get his own Noah's Ark partner. It's only fair and I want to see dude shirtless. Badly. Okay, rant over. Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"What's going on with you and Prentiss, Reid?"

"Morgan, are you seriously interrogating me at…3:28 in the damned morning?"

"Yes, I am seriously interrogating you at 3:28 in the damned morning. Now, I already talked to her about it but I want to get your perspective. Come on, man. Give me something."

"Like what?"

"Are you sleeping with her?"

"Morgan, just because Emily and I are closer friends now doesn't mean we're having sex. Our relationship isn't like that."

"But, there _**is**_ a relationship."

"Of course there is. There is a strong platonic relationship based on common interests, the fact that we work together, and the fact that she's an instrumental part of getting and keeping me off the Needle. She's the only one who faced me head on about it. If it were left up to the rest of you, I would've had to detox alone under cover of darkness or just OD during a case."

An immediate heavy silence fell after that statement and he could hear Morgan sit up and face him.

"Reid…"

"I'm not saying that it's anyone's fault other than mine that I stayed strung out, okay? Henkel stuck the Needle in me the first few times but I didn't have to keep it going. That's on me, not you or anyone else so could you just drop the guilt, already? It's not helping anyone."

"You and JJ should've had more backup or I could've been with you out there. What happened should not have..."

With a soft huff, Reid switched on the hotel room light and cut him off.

"And then _**you**_ would've been attacked by the dogs and I still would've ended up where I was. Henkel knew that we were onto him and his alters needed to have their last hurrah before they all ended up in prison or in the ground. Dwelling on what-ifs, should-haves, and worst case scenarios isn't gonna do anything but make you sick in the head and I have watched enough of my family suffer from that, damn it!"

"But..."

"But, nothing! Morgan, I'm a grown man…despite what my current attire suggests…"

"Spongebob, man?" he sniggered.

"You try saying no to Penelope Garcia in full effect and see how well you do. Anyway, I'm a grown man with a fully functioning brain and capable of making my own decisions, good or bad. Just as easily as I decided to put on these admittedly ridiculous pajamas, I decided to shoot up and I decided to get clean. Me. All right? No more guilt from you or the others about this. I mean it. Keep it up and I'll have to start shooting and every time I shoot someone, they die."

"You only shot someone once."

"And he died. I win."

Morgan sniggered again and conceded, "All right. I'll try. It might take a while though."

"Understandably so. Good night."

Reid turned the light off and was surprised at how hashing it out with Morgan made him feel better. It was just like when he talked about it during his counseling or with Emily…

"So about you and Prentiss…"

"Morgan, I already told you…"

"And she told me the same thing but…just keep your mind open."

"Open to what? What did she say exactly?"

"Good night, Kid."

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me…"


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: Okay, so TPTB were half listening to my Season 8 wish for Reid. He's finally got himself a woman (who said that she _lurves _him…) but he's never met her face to face and there's this elusive big bad possibly abusive gorilla in the background keeping them from their HEA. Awesome. Hopefully, we'll get a resolution (a naked resolution…) before the end of the off to a good start season. And I like Alex Blake. I really do. I didn't expect to but I do. Of course, it's not as much as I adored Emily (I hope she gets like a guest appearance in the future…) but I think Blake will carve herself a good deep niche into the fandom nicely. Enjoy the update.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"I'm not gonna insult you and ask if you're okay. You're not okay. Your dear friend, teammate and mentor just disappeared in the dead of night with nothing but a note left behind for explanation. And he's left a big ass hole in your family. You're the furthest thing from okay and I understand that you probably want to be alone right now but, I'm gonna sit in this dark room with you anyway and if you want to talk or go do jello shots or whatever, you let me know."

Emily sat on the layout room couch next to him but the only movement from him was the curling and uncurling of his fingers. Jason Gideon had left the BAU. He just left, sending a formal letter of resignation to Strauss and letting the bureaucrat tell them 2 days after the fact. For once, the blonde woman hadn't been overtly hostile but she said that a replacement would be found for the unit post haste. None of them had the slightest clue who but there was always going to be a Gideon shaped hole in the unit, just like there was an Elle shaped one. Reid had gone up to his cabin and brought back his service weapon and badge. There was also a letter in the front pocket of his bag but since it was addressed only to him, none of them made a move to grab it. Gideon had made his statement in his actions better than any note could say. In the end, they all just…shut down and swallowed it whole.

_"...He didn't even say good bye..."_

Garcia had holed herself up in her domain, tinkering with her network of computers between sniffles before going home right at 5.

Morgan had gone down to help the rookies learn how to defend themselves in the field and to beat the hell out of a few punching bags before heading out to a club or four.

Hotch's face had gone completely placid and he was still in his office working, even though it was pushing 10PM and even though Hailey was probably waiting up for him.

JJ was in her own office, trying to come up with the cases they could handle with a man down, a mammoth task that had her burning the going deep into midnight oil too.

After finishing his paperwork, Reid had retreated away from the bullpen with a book but it hadn't been opened. He had just sat there in the dark, his head up but eyes closed loosely. Emily felt her gut clench at the sadness on his features and she just wanted to…

"I'm sad and a little angry but I'm not surprised this happened."

"You're not?"

"I'm not. I knew in the back of my head after Bale that he wouldn't make it another five years doing this damned job. And it_** is**_ a job of the damned, Emily. We're up to our eyeballs in pain, depravity, and the underside of the human condition. Day in, day out, there's another case. Another family torn apart, another life snuffed out, another sick nasty fuck or traumatized beyond repair person taking out all their shit on innocents just so they can feel a sliver of joy again. No…I'm not surprised Gideon's gone. I'm angry at his timing and the consequences of his decision for the unit. We're a man down with no replacement lined up and Strauss is probably going to pick some government drone that will do her bidding without question instead of an actual profiler to fill the position. I'm not saying that we can't do this without him because we can. We all can but…this sucks, Emily. Royally."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. It's not anyone's fault."


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: Good evening and happy 'fall back and get more sleep because God knows you need it day'. Okay, can I just say that Henry as Reid was the best shit since sliced bread? I LOVE anything to do with Godfather/Uncle Spencer and it was just…amazing. I see that they shelved the Mystery Woman plot for a while but I think it'll make a triumphant return soon. I hope it does. If anyone deserves to get some action that doesn't involve guns, explosions, and torture, it's Reid. Seriously.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"It's about time you got a new car, Kid. That thing was older than Hotch …or dirt."

"Dirt and Hotch are twins, actually." he deadpanned, making Morgan crack up laughing.

"I'll pay you 19.99 plus shipping and handling to say that to him."

"Throw in a bag of sour gummi worms and I'll consider it. How about this one?"

"It's kinda…plain, don't you think?"

"It gets good gas mileage and it's solid. Besides, I don't have anything to prove."

"What do you mean by…oh _**shit**_!"

Reid grinned at the completely freaked out look on his big brother's face and looked closer. The car was a deep gray near black Jetta, a 1998. The interior was beige and gray and when he moved the driver's seat back, he saw there was room for even his gangly limbs. Turning on a flashlight, he checked for signs of flood damage or rust and nodded when he found none. Popping the trunk, he moved to the back and looked in. No rust, no odd stains or smells…very good so far. He'd test drive and take it to his mechanic for a full diagnostic before laying down a cent but…yes.

"Oh, Strauss finally found a replacement or rather, the replacement found her. David Rossi."

"As in _**David Rossi**_?"

"Yep."

"Huh. Well, that's a relief. All we'll have to do is get him used to the new dynamic of the unit which is _**way**_ better than dealing with someone fresh out the box. When's he start?"

"Couple of days from now. I heard he's a jackass…and that 90% of the non-frat policy is his fault."

"You're responsible for the last 10% and there is more than a little jackassery in your giddy-up but we gladly keep you around."

"Sobriety makes you bitchy, man."

"Morgan, I've always been bitchy. I've just kept it under wraps and I didn't hear you deny a thing."

"_**Well**_…" he leered wolfishly.

"You're nasty."

"Says you, my sisters, and Prentiss. I've gotten better, though."

"When did Emily call you nasty?"

"Actually, she said disgusting and it was when she was getting ready for a date with you a few weeks ago."

"It wasn't a date."

"Yeah, right. Tell me another bedtime story."

"It _**wasn't! **_We were just hanging out watching Hitchcock, eating Indian food and dancing."

"Dancing? She actually got you to dance with her?"

"Well, _**she**_ was dancing. I was more like flailing rhythmically but…stop grinning, it wasn't a date. We're not dating. We're just friends."

"Your mouth's saying one thing but the blush on your face is tellin' a whole other story."

"…shut up."


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: Good afternoon. One thing I always appreciate about new seasons of CM is that with each passing year, the characters evolve into new characters to get to know. I gotta say that Season 8 Reid is better than ever. He's still got all the elements of his previous years but now, he's coming into his own skin fully. He's opening himself up to the possibility of love (even when it looks like it's spiraling headfirst towards disaster…) and the student is outgrowing his teachers. The teachers and mentors (mainly Morgan) are truly becoming his equals and it's awesome as hell. The softball prep and the subtle as a brick to the face metaphor for Reid were just great and I'm really looking forward to more of the season.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"Rossi's an asshole."

"Water is wet. Is one of those for me?"

Emily let out a surprised huff of laughter and gamely handed him a bottle of mountain dew. Setting down his markers, Reid opened his bottle and drank heartily, tossing it into the recycling bin nearby. She smiled at his small fist pump of triumph and peered at the map curiously as she sat down.

"How's it coming?"

"Slow but steady. Garcia's running a couple of leads in relation to the 3rd and 4th victims but it's getting dark. Nightfall means another body. Why is Rossi an asshole?"

"He's got a mini-notebook that he keeps writing in when he thinks nobody's looking. He's not contributing anything that we can… and for god's sake, it's a team dynamic. The BAU is not what it used to be and he's acting like a lone wolf and it's…"

"… bullshit. Not only is it bullshit, it's unnecessarily complicating an already volatile situation. You're preaching to the converted, Emily but until he realizes what time it is on his own or Hotch gives him a swift kick in the teeth, there's no use getting angry about it. Did you know he asked me how old I was while Morgan and I were getting breakfast this morning?"

"_**Seriously?**_"

"Yep. I told him but then I politely asked if he was born before or after Lincoln's assassination. He didn't reply but I swear that I could see a smile tugging at his goatee as he left with his cup of Starbucks triple whip latte. It took Morgan about 15 minutes to stop laughing, not to mention Garcia when he texted her but that's not my point. My point is that… we're transitioning. All of us. It's difficult and annoying and a severe pain in the ass now but I have faith that we'll work it out and the unit will be all the better for it in the long run. And frankly, I'll take Rossi over any of Strauss' or Capitol Hill's disciples any day. He may be a lone wolf but he isn't a sycophant. There's still hope for a lone wolf. "

"Thank God for that. Sycophants give me indigestion." she replied dryly.

He chuckled and spun in the precinct office chair slowly. He had on a gold and tan argyle sweater with a white button down underneath, dark green cords, and his legs were crossed Indian style, showing mismatched pink and lime green socks above his sea foam sneakers. There were still circles under his eyes but not in a want to take him straight to the doctor way. His color was a slightly healthier pale and she had a quick image of sucking on his full lower lip, just a little bit…

"Emily?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you okay? You look a little distracted."

"I'm good. I just…we need to solve this case."

"This case and thousands of others. Thank you for bringing me sugar." he replied while standing up fluidly. He cracked his neck and stretched his arms above his head (showing a sliver of flat abs…since when did he have abs?) before returning to the board. Swallowing, she withdrew towards the main area of the precinct and nearly collided with Rossi himself.

"Sorry."

"The kid's…Reid's right and so are you."

"You overheard."

"I liked the whole water is wet bit. I'll have to use that in my next novel. Hotch already laid it on the line and…I can adapt. It might take me a minute or 10 but I can do it."

"It's worth it. The methods may be different but the work's still the same and we need all the help we can get." she replied as she opened the door to the parking lot.

"Mm. Oh and Prentiss?"

"Yeah?"

"Whatever's going on between you and the good doctor…I'll keep it under my hat."

"There isn't anything going on between me and Reid."

"Oh. Never mind then." Rossi replied innocently but not at all.

Emily frowned as the Legend entered their domain and shook her head, finally outside. There wasn't anything going on between her and Reid. Not really. Yes, they were closer but there wasn't anything sexual going on. They were just friends, coworkers. Just because they hung out frequently and she could initiate a bitch and bull session with him talking her down while in the middle of a case and she had inappropriate thoughts about his lower lip (and his fingers and perhaps 4 pack abs…) did not mean there was something going on. Rossi was wrong. Morgan was wrong. Garcia was wrong and the niggling voice in the back of her head was wrong, too.

Right?

An image of them collapsed on her living room floor laughing as she tried and failed to dip him in a tango gave her an answer.

Oh, shit.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: From now to Sunday, there will be a daily update of this story. It's a part of my Fic of the Week system and I hope you guys don't mind the spam in your inboxes.**

**I've been keeping up with the show faithfully and I like what they're doing with the personal plot lines. I loved how they got a little more in depth about Morgan's bond with his dad, the realistic aftermath of Garcia and Lynch (and even though, Morgan/Garcia is my OTP for her, I'm starting to get a case of the feels for her and Rossi…), and most of all, Reid and his mystery woman, who is not such a mystery, anymore.**

**Even though Emily will always be the one for him in my fangirl heart, I think if done correctly, he and Phone Booth can have something adorably special. That is, if their respective stalkers don't kill them first, of course. I'm starting to think they're one and the same and if I'm right, then that's gonna be a hoot. And I'm not ashamed to say that when he asked during that great scene with Blake, "What if she doesn't like me?" I replied in an utterly serious tone, "Then I'll gladly have you, Sugar: every day of the week and twice on Sundays."**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

Reid had started going to the gym down the street from his apartment four times a week. It was mostly an exercise bike and slow laps in the pool but still, he was going to the gym. It was part of his 'sobriety regimen', providing another healthy outlet for stress and if it so happened to add a little bit of coats to his coat rack frame then so much the better. Garcia had gleefully helped him pick out a Mac laptop and an iPod from Wal-Mart and installed all sorts of software. He only knew how to get to his email, Nat Geo and iTunes so far but he did enjoy the GarageBand program, putting some of his original mixes onto his large black iPod.

The iPod was full of classical pieces as well as artists like Bob Dylan and more than a few novels. Currently, he was listening to _**Julius Caesar**_, the scene where Brutus gets recruited into the treachery against his friend. Honestly, he had little patience for Shakespeare, preferring Wells and Poe but his mother enjoyed the famous poet, particularly _**Romeo and Juliet**_. She said it was a perfect cautionary tale for those seeking companionship. One could and should have those sorts of connections but one should be careful with their actions, especially if one isn't sure of the person of their affection's motives.

He wasn't sure of Emily's motives.

Frankly, he was afraid to find out exactly where he stood with her. Of course, he was no stranger to rejection but somehow, the possibility being rejected by Emily was more painful than the others. Perhaps it was the fact that they were closer platonically than he had gotten to the others or maybe the doubts stemmed from the circumstances of their increased intimacy.

If he hadn't gotten strung out in the first place, she wouldn't have fought as hard as she did to get through to him and now that he was coming up on 4 months clean, he was waiting for her to start to withdraw. But, she still came over after shifts. She still cooked for him and he cooked for her now. He was no Wolfgang Puck but he could put together a few simple hearty dishes. They still watched Hitchcock together and there had even been another dance session, lasting 2 hours and 15 minutes.

And she still slept over in his guest room at least once a week.

She would be gone before he woke up but he could see the neatly made bed and smell the faint scent of her when he straightened the already precise pillows. Cinnamon, honey, and something else, a musky tang that only belonged to her, Emily-scent his brain had dubbed it. Said brain then provided images of him burying his face in her hair and slender neck, inhaling her at the source, tasting her to see if her supple looking flesh was delicious as it smelled…

Consciously, he thought of the smell and look of a decomposing body to calm the growing heat in his loins. The last thing he needed was to get an erection in such a public place, especially since he was still looked at with derision by much of the male populace. He was used to that, too. Compared to them, he was a pipe cleaner with eyes, skinny and pale from lack of sun and social life. Why Emily still wanted to be near him, why he could see the flashes of raw emotion on her face that Lila had before kissing him when she could easily obtain the affections of s standard man was another source of confusion and insecurity.

She could do much better than him. Sad but true.

He didn't want her to do better than him, though. He wanted her to want him and only him but in order for that to happen, he'd have to put himself out there again.

While Reid was no stranger to rejection and heartbreak, he had never gone through it post an opiate addiction before. Would he relapse? He was frightened to the core of relapsing. He had so much to lose. Mental illness manifested more easily in addicts, especially with individuals with genetic predispositions. He had barely been able to do his job and when he did pull it off, he did so harshly and coolly, alienating his teammates and others he had come into contact with. The Needle made him into someone that scared him and he really did not want to get back in that dark hole. Emily rejecting him could prove to be a very potent stressor.

**_But, what if she _doesn't_ reject you? Have you even considered that possibility for more than a 'pie in the sky' moment? Maybe she sees something in you that the others didn't and that you don't now…_**

Against his will, hope bloomed in his chest at the idea.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: Good evening, everyone. I had the day off today due to mutual illness on the [part of myself and my employer. I'm supposed to be getting ready to make an epic family sit down at the table and look at each other dinner for my dad in honor of his first real days off in over 2 weeks (hence the return of the recipes and Nona flashback…) but until my mom shows up in the kitchen, I'm free to my own devices. Hell, I usually am. I might have to double up on the Sunday update for this one because I'm going to the movies to see three films (with very hot men in them…) and I might not be home until past the midnight deadline I established for myself. Or I'll just wake my lazy butt up early and update in the morning. I'm not sure yet. As for today's chapter, it's the recipe and an extended flashback, giving a little more oomph to Emily's teenage backstory we got in _Demonology_ and the frayed relationship she has with her mother. It can be skipped if you wish.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

**- Jacqueline Kensington- Prentiss' 'How in the living hell am I gonna feed all of these people?'/ Large Family Gathering Recipes: Meal #8: Turkey Pineapple Spinach Meatloaf, Garlic Mashed Potatoes XXXVIII, and Sweet Potato Pudding VIII-***

**~*Materials Needed and Instructions (in order) *~**

**Turkey Pineapple Spinach Meatloaf**

2 tbsps **olive oil**

1 **finely chopped onion**

3 **garlic cloves** (minced)

1/4 cup **crushed pineapple** (drained)

10 ozs **spinach** (frozen chopped, thawed and well drained)

3/4 cup **bread crumbs** (seasoned)

1/2 cup **grated parmesan cheese**

2 **beaten eggs**

2 tsps **dried basil**

2 tsps **sage** (fresh, minced)

1/4 tsp **pepper**

1 lb **ground turkey**

1 lb **Italian turkey sausage** (removed from casings and crumbled)

3 **pineapples** (rings)

1/4 cup **preserves** (pineapple)

1 tbsp **brown sugar**

1) Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

2) Heat olive oil in large skillet and cook onions and garlic until tender. Remove to large bowl.

3) Add pineapples, spinach (squeezed dry), bread crumbs, cheese, eggs, basil, sage and pepper. Mix well.

4) Add turkey and turkey sausage and mix gently.

5) Form into round loaf and place in 2 quart casserole dish.

6) Bake for 40 minutes, top with pineapple rings or mix the preserves and brown sugar spread on loaf, bake 15 more minutes or until internal temperature registers 160 degrees.

7) Let stand, covered, for 15 minutes before slicing.

**Garlic Mashed Potatoes XXXVIII**

1 pound red potatoes, peeled and cut into eighths

1 pound russet potatoes, peeled and cut into 1 1/2-inch pieces

5 garlic cloves

3/4 cup nonfat milk

2 tablespoons unsalted butter

3/4 teaspoon coarse salt

Freshly ground pepper

1) In a medium saucepan, combine the potatoes and whole garlic; add enough cold water to cover by about 2 inches. Bring to a boil over high heat. Reduce heat to a simmer, and cook until the potatoes are easily pierced with a fork, about 15 minutes. Drain the potatoes, and set aside in a warm place.

2) Meanwhile, in the same saucepan, combine milk, butter, and salt; season with pepper. Place over low heat until butter has melted and milk is warm to the touch. Pass potatoes and garlic through a ricer or food mill into saucepan, and stir gently to combine with milk mixture. Serve immediately.

**Sweet Potato Pudding VIII**

6 **sweet potatoes** (peeled and quartered)

1/2 cup **melted butter**

2/3 cup **dark brown sugar**

2/3 cup **white sugar**

4 **beaten eggs**

2/3 cup **orange juice**

2 tsps **vanilla extract**

1) Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Butter a 2 1/2 quart baking dish.

2) Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Add potatoes and cook until tender, about 20 minutes. Drain and mash.

3) In a large bowl, combine the mashed sweet potatoes, butter, brown sugar, white sugar, eggs, orange juice and vanilla; stir until smooth. Pour into buttered dish.

4) Bake in preheated oven 40 minutes.

* * *

"_Your mother despises me, Leonardo. She's made no secret of that."_

"_Mom doesn't despise you, Liz."_

"_She does and now, you want me to sit through an evening with her. Dinner was bad enough."_

"_Forgive me for wanting to see my parents after spending 14 months in Italy away from them. They wanted to see Emily, too and it's been good for her. Better than dealing with you right now, anyway."_

"_Leonardo…" her mother groaned with exasperation._

_Said exasperation was met with near monotone venom, stopping all motion at the table and from her mother._

"_Our grandchild is dead because our daughter felt too ashamed and fearful to come to us for help when she needed us most. She was too afraid that the scandal of a 15 year old ambassador's daughter becoming pregnant would damage your reputation and career. That, and you would force her to give up her child to keep up appearances."_

"_She's a 15 year old girl! She had no business having sex with that Matthew person in the first place!"_

"_Agreed but we are not blameless in the situation either. Emily felt neglected by the both of us due our careers and the fact that the 3 of us barely spare a glance at each other than to ask for the salt. Our neglect made her feel as if she were unloved and unwanted so she sought validation elsewhere, leading to her pregnancy. I plan on changing that. No amount of money or prestige is worth more than family and I forgot that. Never again. And let's be honest, Elizabeth. You and I know damned well that you would have taken the baby from her and paid top dollar to someone to keep it all under wraps. I suppose you're relieved that the…how did you term it in Rome?** Problem** has resolved itself. You get to keep your precious career on track and all it cost was the happiness of your allegedly wayward daughter and the innocent life of a baby boy. Congratulations."_

"_You…you…"_

"_What? Bastard? Asshole? What is it?"_

"_I cannot deal with you when you're like this, Leonardo!"_

"_Yes leave, Ambassador Prentiss. Go on into work and I'll make an excuse to mom and dad so that can get what you want once again! After all, that's what is **truly** important to you!" her father barked, finally losing his patience._

_Emily closed her eyes as the sounds of a thrown glass and a hastily slammed front door ended the argument in the living room and continued spooning bites of potatoes into her mouth. Lying in the hospital, she had called her Nona and let it all spill out from A to Z. Instead of the rage she had gotten from her mother or the coddling she got from her father, Nona had provided comfort and rationality._

_She told her that it wasn't her fault, which Emily did not believe, told her about the child she had lost when she was 18 (he would've been her Uncle Francis James Kensington), and how the pain would always be with her, a part of her. Eventually, that pain would become a source of strength and would help her emphasize with others on a different level._

_Emily had asked to stay with them for the rest of her recovery and perhaps the rest of high school, too. Nono had said that he would swim across the Atlantic if that was what it took to get her to them. Her father had immediately agreed to the arrangement and announced that he was only taking jobs on the Eastern Seaboard now. His international work would be put on hold until she completed high school and the first year of college. _

_Her mother had said nothing. They hadn't spoken 20 words to each other since she called her baby 'a problem' on the phone with one of her numerous aides and assistants. She had been in the corridor but her father had obviously heard her. When she came back into the room, Emily had thrown a glass at her head and told her to stay the hell away from her so she could mourn her 'problem' in peace._

_Her **son** was entombed in the Prentiss family mausoleum, Oliver Leonardo Prentiss…_

"_Dolcezza, I'm sorry you had to hear that."_

"_It's okay, daddy. She's entitled to her opinions and I'm entitled to mine. Have some more meatloaf."_

"_I'm glad it's still one of your favorites, Little One. Good food always provides comfort." her Nona said while pressing a kiss to her temple._

_Small comfort but comfort all the same…_


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note: Good evening, all. Tonight's episode wasn't as disturbing as last week's thankfully but it cut it close. Only CM would be twisted enough to put reincarnation into the context of a serial killer and then the hospital scenes…it was well written, as always but…damn. Although, I did enjoy the little hint of Morgan/Garcia goodness with the bandage and the touching and the…JJ has terrible timing. I'm glad the elusive Team Stalker ax has fallen and I'm looking forward to the full reveal.**

**To address an issue brought up: although I'm okay with Phone Booth's existence in canon, in this story, it's about the Reid/Prentiss connection. I might do a separate story with the canon couple at a later date but _Support_ will stay a Reid/Prentiss fic from the first chapter to the last. **

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"Judging by the thunderous look of disgust on your face, I'm gonna say you just spent more than 20 minutes on the phone with someone you can barely stand.", Reid greeted as he set his bag down on his desk.

"**My. Mother**." she replied while resting her head on a stack of completed triplicate.

"Ah. So on a scale of 1 to Homicide, how are you feeling?"

Emily laughed and held up 6 fingers in response, turning her head to face him as he rolled his chair to her desk. He had on a purple and white checkered v-neck sweater, black jeans, and dark green sneakers. A fluffy gray cardigan topped it and she shifted so her head rested on the sleeve…and a noticeably more muscular forearm. When did that happen?

"It's just…she disagrees with me being in the BAU. If she had her way, I'd be in the diplomatic circuit with her or best case scenario, a politician's wife."

"Ew."

"Right? Every couple of months, there's some big dinner thing she wants me to attend and when I show up, it's like the blueblood dating game or the opening of fox hunting season and I'm the fox."

"Can't you find a way out of it?"

"I already have but then the calls start. She says it's just to see if I'm okay but I know damned well that she doesn't really care about that. She just wants to nitpick and I always end up with a headache afterwards."

"I guess that's her way of communicating with you. All moms nitpick on something. Mine says I'm too skinny."

"You are and I don't get it. I've seen you eat. You should be like 100 pounds heavier than you are."

He snorted and she raised her head, cracking her neck and causing her hair to fall over one shoulder. As she reached for a scrunchie, she could feel him looking at her through his lashes, his gaze lingering over her red top. He liked it when she wore red. A lot of men did but none of them looked at her like he did. Sure there was interest but there was a gleam of shy tenderness that appealed to her greatly. It would always be hidden when she looked back at him but she could see it sometimes in he reflection of a window or her computer monitor…

"You've been picking your nails lately. Is there something on your mind?"

Looking down at the frayed and reddish skin around her right nails, she replied, "It's nothing big. Just some random thoughts that won't leave me alone. Especially when I'm trying to sleep."

Once her mind had settled on a positive answer about whether she was harboring non platonic feelings for Reid, her sleep cycle had gone out of whack. She couldn't help but dwell on the various interactions she had with him over the past few months, both professionally and non professionally, seeking and finding subtext. A hidden glance here, a quick touch on her arm there, butting heads with him, playing chess with him…it was like a skipping CD.

"I'm no stranger to insomnia either. Whatever's troubling or confusing you, when you're ready, I'm here to listen."

"You don't have to…"

"I want to. You were there for me. It's only right that I be there for you."

And back to his cubicle space he went, leaving warmth in her chest and a little less confusion in his wake.

He was good for that.


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note: Hi. I don't have much to say today. I'm gonna hang out with my sister tonight and I am looking forward to the latest _Elementary_. It's the only other show I watch religiously and dude that plays Sherlock is hot in my kinda way. Enjoy today's chapter.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"So, you're a genius, huh?" Captain Flora Martinez asked as they crossed the Golden Gate Bridge.

"I've been referred as one over the years but I really don't agree. I may have book smarts but when it comes to life, I can do some pretty awkward or just plain stupid things."

"You and everyone else, Doc. So, I'm just gonna get to the real: You're smart. You're sweet. You're competent. You're fine as wine and I like you. You seeing anyone right now?"

"No, but there _**is **_someone I'm interested in." he replied without thinking, making Morgan and JJ look at him incredulously in the SUV mirrors. Reid felt his cheeks tint but he just nodded, noting the hint of a pout on the brassy Latina woman's lips.

"Of course you are. All the good ones are. She's a lucky duck whoever she is…or is it a he? If it is, I don't judge. This_** is**_ San Francisco, after all..."

"No, no, no… it's definitely a she and she doesn't know yet."

He jumped as she swatted him on the arm and Morgan snickered as she put her hands on her hips.

"Well, what're you waiting for?! The latest apocalypse that some dude crows outta of his ass about?! Don't look at me like that, Doc! You're in one of the most dangerous and unpredictable lines of work there is and you're part of the cream of the crop of said line of work. I'm sure there are at least 3 nut jobs that wanna maim or do you in at any given moment all over this whole damned country. If you do get hurt or god forbid bite it while chasing UnSubs or sickos or psychos or whatever you wanna call 'em, don't you think it would be better not to have regrets over your mystery woman?"

"I never thought of it like that."

"Well, you _**should **_and like I said, she'd be lucky to have you. Thanks for the lift and the help, you guys. I'm glad no one else's baby is gonna be on the business end of Morrows."

Morrows being one Harold Morrows, a killer of 4 inner city school age girls within 4 weeks and kidnapper of one more. Fortunately, they had been able to rescue little 6 year old Maya Jackson and she had immediately latched herself onto his leg (apparently opiate abuse had cancelled the Reid Effect…) until her tearful and thankful mother had come to the ambulance…

A card was placed on his lap and he looked up into impishly shining gray eyes.

"Just in case Agent Prentiss is stupid enough to turn you down, Doc.", she deadpanned with a saucy wink before closing the door behind her gently.

Immediately, JJ turned around and cocked an expecting brow. Reid sighed heavily and leaned back in his seat, staring up at the car roof.

"Yes, I'm interested in Emily. No, she doesn't know and if you or Morgan tell any of the others, I'll ask Garcia to change your names to Sunflower and Egbert."

"Kid, everyone figured it out weeks ago. You're playing catch up. Well, everyone's figured it out but her, anyway. Probably because she's in the same oblivious boat."

"What?", he questioned dumbly, making both of them groan in disgusted amusement.

"Spence, just ask her out already or better yet, just kiss her and put us all out of our misery."


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note: Good evening. "I long for the day that senseless violence is over. Until then, my thoughts and prayers are with the families of the victims of the Newtown shooting. The level of barbarism people are capable of breaks my heart."- That was my big sister's most recent FaceBook status and it sums up everything I'm feeling right now better than anything I can come up with right now. Enjoy today's chapter. **

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_So, how long are you and Jr. G-Man gonna keep on with this stealth flirty thing you've been doing lately?_"

"I don't know what you're talking about, PG.", she immediately denied between swipes of 'Mediterranean Mint' on her right big toenail.

"_BS, EP and you know it! Everyone can see the writing on the wall, even Hotch, even __**Rossi**__ and he's only been around for like 5 minutes! You and Reid have been uber close since you helped him get…clean…and I saw the little tete a tete you two had in the bull pen before going to San Fran. You look good together and I bet you dollars to donuts that you'll feel even better together, if you know what I mean…_"

"Not every broad's as brave as you, Penelope."

"_Brave?_"

"Morgan."

A derisive snort came through the line and Emily's brows went up at her next statement.

"_Honey_, _if I were even __**half**__ as brave as you think I am, then I'd be fucking him for real right now instead of in my head like always. Brave, my thick juicy booty…sorry about that. Mimosas make the mouth filters go poof._ _The point is that I'm a chicken when it comes to the man I want and you shouldn't be like that with Reid. You're totally into him and he digs you so I say you go for it. What's the worst that could happen?"_

"Rejection. Friendship ruining, team fucked all to hell and sideways rejection."

"_Reid's not gonna reject you. Hell, if anything, he's scared that __**you'll**__ reject __**him**__. After all, according to mainstream society, he's so out of your league it's not even funny._"

"Mainstream society is full of idiots and I don't care about leagues. I care about him!"

"_So then, strap on your lady pair and tell him, already or just show him. Maybe you could show up to his place in nothing but a cardigan and ask him to tutor you in reproductive health._"

"_**Penelope Orchid Garcia!**_" she scolded laughingly.

"_I bet he likes to be called doctor in bed_." Garcia purred before dissolving into giggles.

"Oh, my _**god**_…okay, you know what? No more mimosas for you tonight and you should call Morgan over and have your own little cardigan chat with him."

"_Now, wait a minute_…"

"Come to Jesus talks are two way streets. You should take your own advice and tie Morgan to your bed and lick him like a chocolate ice cream cone like you said you wanted to before Hotch said you were on speaker. Look, if it goes sideways, you can freeze my bank accounts and bitch slap me on Monday, okay?"

"_I'm not gonna bitch slap you. You're my sister and you have a gun but…maybe. I need to think about it._"

"Don't overthink it. Look, my pizza's here so I'll talk you later, all right?"

"_All right. Xs and Os, Em._"

The pounding at the door was getting more insistent by the second and she balanced on her heels to preserve her toes. Glancing in the mirror, she adjusted the Patriots football jersey she had on and picked up her wallet and switchblade.

Better safe than sorry.

Opening the door, her eyes widened at the sight of not the pizza guy but Reid. He had on a forest green t-shirt, baggy brown sweats, white slippers, and no sweater, showing his spindly arms. His hair was wilder than usual and his eyes, while free of signs of drugs, were still wild.

"Spencer, what are you doing…?"

His lips cut her off.


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's Note: Good evening. I moved my RL plans to Monday. I have the day off then and the movies will help me decide which fic to make next week's Fic of the Week more easily. That and I'm scared to go out of my house after dark due to some less than legal activities on my street involving guns, drugs, and at least one live in prostitute across the street. My family and I have been safe so far but yeah…I definitely have a self imposed curfew now. Anyway, I'm glad you guys approved of the action last chapter and it's time for a little more. It's not lemon but it's interesting. I certainly enjoyed writing it. Enjoy today's chapter.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

He really hadn't intended to kiss her outright.

Really, he hadn't. He had just wanted to talk to her about whatever the hell was going on between them and go from there. If she rejected him, then he'd ask to stay over so he wouldn't do anything Needle stupid and chalk it up to another woman related failure, rightfully reminding himself that her friendship was way more important than his hormones any day.

If she didn't, he'd ask her out on the spot. He'd take her someplace nice that she liked after work, keep up the awkward openness he had been showing her, and then…then, if she let him, _**then**_ he'd kiss her. Chastely. Quickly. No tongue or grabbing hands. He had been raised and raised himself to be a gentleman and Emily deserved a little bit of wooing. A lot of wooing, actually because she was Emily and awesome and very, very special to him.

All his plans went out the window as soon as she opened the door.

While most men found women to be most attractive when they were all gussied up (or completely naked…), Reid loved it when a woman was covered up and au natural. No makeup, no frills, and a little bit of skin was enough to get his figurative motor running.

Seeing Emily in her pajamas with her hair secured by pencils and fresh nail polish on her feet had made him…for lack of a better word, snap. He had grabbed her and gone to town with tongue and teeth, gripping the back of her head to keep her in place. Shockingly, she purred and bit him right back, shoving him into the side of her kitchen counter, leading to their current state of…what was his state?

Gently but firmly, he broke the kiss and moved her a good 2 feet out of reach. Both of them were panting and he fought back a moan as her lips swelled before his eyes.

"Em…Emily?"

"_**What?**_"

He gulped at the annoyance in her tone and asked tentatively, "What does this mean?"

The annoyance was replaced by surprise and…shyness? Why was she shy? If she was acting shy around him then…oh. _**Oh!**_

"You mean you don't know?"

"I've got an idea but I might be wrong."

"Well, I don't know about you but I've been feeling…things for you. New things. Different things. Romantic and dirty things. That's why I haven't been sleeping."

"And your nails?"

"Nervous tic."

"Ah. Well, that makes things a lot easier. I came here to tell you that I've been feeling…things for you and to either be rejected or to ask you out. I take it since you didn't shoot me or try bite the tip of my tongue off, you're open to the latter?"

"I am."

"Good because…there's…I remember you saying that you liked classic movies and there's a showing of **_The Godfather _**at a small theater near my place on Saturday so I was…provided that we don't get a case, would you like to join me?"

"That would be great."

"Really?"

"Yep."

"Great. That's…that's really great, Emily."

"Yes, it is."

Silence.

"I should go now."

"You don't have to. There's pizza on the way and _**First Contact**_'s coming on HBO in about 20 minutes. It would be great if you could stay."

"I…I'd like that."


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's Note: Thank you all so much for supporting this fic this week. While the daily updates are done, I'll be doing a Wednesday update for this story from now until it's finished. I did it with _Repairing the Damage_ and that worked out fine so…yeah. I have no idea what the endgame to this story will be yet but I know there's gonna be some sex. And I may try my hand at some whumpage, too. I'm not sure yet. I don't like putting the characters through hell. Anyway, thanks again for the all the feedback and I hope you guys enjoy today's chapter.**

**Disclaimer "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

He had fallen asleep just after Lily Sloane yelled at Picard to "blow up the damned ship!"

His still kiss swollen and bruised lips were parted ever so slightly. He was on his back, his elbow serving as a pillow and his free arm was wrapped around her because she was reclined on him. She had put the nearby afghan she had picked up in Albuquerque years ago over them and just…relaxed. Relaxing didn't come easily to Emily, especially around men. Her guard was constantly up, her compartmentalization skills primed for action at the mere hint of something that made her feel uncomfortable.

Not with Spencer, though. With Spencer, she felt a level of freedom and trust that she hadn't felt in decades, long before Italy and long before deciding to take the FBI entrance exams. The FBI…the frat rules…the team…how was this gonna work? The team wasn't really a factor. Hell, they were essentially giving the thumbs up, even Hotch. While he hadn't said anything, now that she thought back, she could see him looking between them speculatively and with hope. Hope that although his relationship with Haley was crumbling by the day, two people could get it right and keep it together in the BAU.

That left the frat rules. Contrary to popular belief, the only strictly forbidden relationship (with very few exceptions made…) was between a superior and a subordinate. Other types of relationships were frowned upon and scrutinized by the powers that be closely. The last thing she needed was Strauss to have an even bigger chip on her shoulder against her but…Spencer would be worth it. He would be worth the bureaucratic bullshit, the innuendos from other agents, and most importantly, he would be worth the risk of dropping her guard enough for someone to truly hurt her again.

If he did hurt her, Emily knew full and damned well that it wouldn't be on purpose.

That knowledge was very comforting and strengthening to her resolve.


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's Note: Good evening. Brace yourselves. The reruns have arrived. I suppose that's a product of the holidays and perhaps, the reruns will help me break my latest insomnia cycle. That being said, I'm still looking forward to the return of new episodes. Enjoy this week's chapter.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"Something's different."

Reid barely glanced up from his #4 Sunday breakfast special.

"With what?"

"With you, man. Something's different with you. You're not all wound up like usual and you're dressed up a little… you got some action, didn't you? You _**did**_!"

One of these days, Reid was going to find or invent a method to keep his damned blushing under control. Every time he wanted to have a little privacy, the right question or guess would make his cheeks go up in flames and prompt either more teasing or coddling of the 'aw, he's so cute…' variety. He was _**not**_ cute. He was a grown man with grown man feelings and impulses. He had given into those impulses when it came to Emily and by some miracle from a God he didn't even believe in, she hadn't been repulsed. She had been welcoming and open and hot and sweet…

"I have a date with Emily on Saturday." he replied bluntly, cutting all the speculation and teasing off at the pass.

"Our Emily? Emily Prentiss?"

"Yes. We're going to see a movie and I'm going to cook her dinner afterwards and before you ask, yes I know how to cook actual food. I didn't have a choice otherwise."

"That's great, kid. I hope it works out for you two, even with the frat rules."

"The frat rules aren't really a factor. It's geared towards the prevention of boss and subordinate romantic entanglements. Emily and I are the same rank and according to Strauss, none of us 'renegades' have a chance in hell of moving up within the ranks…"

"Like I'd want one. The BAU is exactly where I want to be."

"…same here…anyway, **_if_ **Emily and I get into a relationship, it would be frowned upon but not forbidden."

"What do you mean if?"

"It might not work out. It didn't with JJ…"

"JJ wasn't into you like Prentiss is. Neither was Elle."

"You know about…?"

Reid never thought any of the team noticed the brief…connection between him and Elle Greenaway. It had started after the incident with the train hostage situation and it had become sexual shortly before the disaster with Lee. The hotel room had been the last time he had been intimate with anyone…

"Yeah. I…I kinda heard you two when…I had the room next door and…"

And now he was sure that a dozen eggs could be fried on his face.

"Fuck. Sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about. It gave me a lot of hope for you." Morgan replied with a broad grin.

"Thanks.", he replied with flat bitter sarcasm.

"Look, all kidding aside: Prentiss likes you. She's liked you for a while, even when you were being a dick to her, and as long as you don't do something completely disgusting or illegal on Saturday, it'll work out."

"I hope you're right.'

Insecure as he was, Reid was definitely looking forward to it.


	18. Chapter 18

**Author's Note: Good evening, everyone. Okay, so every _week_ I'm gonna update this. I apologize to you guys who looking for a Wednesday chapter. Blizzards and cooking hearty 3 day leftover food wipes me out. I'm still wiped from work and digging my family out but I wanted to get this chapter out today. I hope everyone's intact out there and enjoyed their chosen annual celebration.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"I am _**not**_ putting those on! Where did you even find those?!"

"In the _**way**_ back of your underwear drawer, Em. You know, I never thought you'd be a sheer thong type of woman. I was thinking more of a corset and stockings combo. And boots. Kinky boots with a riding crop."

"I don't think Reid would be down with a riding crop, Pen. Fuzzy handcuffs, though…"

Emily groaned at the twin mischievous grins on their faces and snatched the red sheer thong from Garcia. Chucking it onto the dresser, she pulled out a pair of lavender cheeky boyshorts and the matching demi bra. Putting them on, she crossed her bedroom and pulled out two dresses, holding them up. One was a boat necked black sheath and the other was a magenta pull over v neck with a full skirt.

"All right, you two cackling hens. Which one?"

"The v-neck. It shows boobs."

"Garcia!"

"Don't you 'Garcia' me, woman. You know that the good doctor would appreciate the view. Not like he doesn't already."

"I shouldn't have invited you... JJ?"

"Spence is a breast man.", the media liaison replied matter of factly.

And she would know better than anyone. After putting the black dress away, Emily pulled it on and nodded at the way it fell on her. Not too long but not too short, either. Using her fingers, she combed the curls she had put in back in place and pulled a pair of black leather boots out from under the bed. She rolled on two white ankle socks and pulled the boots on, noting how the 2 inch heels made her legs look longer. With a little liner and tinted lip butter, she was ready for action.

"You look great, sugarplum. He'll love it."

_**/**_

Reid knocked on the door firmly and stepped back two steps, holding the pink rose he had gotten for her tightly. A whole flock of bird sized butterflies were in his stomach but he was more excited than nervous. Emily Prentiss was going on a date with him that was actually a date. The Redskins game with JJ didn't really count. The setup had been Gideon's doing and after the first quarter, he could feel her put him firmly in a box labeled 'Friend/ Awkward Little Brainy Brother'. Hopefully, that wouldn't happen with Emily.

He had on black sneakers, mismatched white and teal socks, a deep purple and sky blue argyle sweater, all colors set off by the black of his jeans. Yes, jeans. Not cords or slacks but _**jeans**_. It kind of felt like he was dressing down but tonight was a night of different Spencer. Instead of a reading thick novel or a term paper, he was out on a Saturday night and not only that, he was out with a beautiful woman. A beautiful woman that understood him and accepted him…

The door opened and he felt his mouth go dry at the sight of her.

"_Wow_…I mean, hi. Hi, Emily."

"Hey. Is that for me?"

"What?"

"The rose, Spencer. Is it for me?" she asked again with a hint of gentle amusement.

"Yes, it is. I remember you saying that pink roses were your favorite and I took the thorns off in the car. Well, I cut myself on the thorns first but…stop me anytime here…"

"I like hearing you talk."

"Even when I ramble like an encyclopedia or an idiot?"

"Even when you ramble like an encyclopedia or an idiot."

Warm silence descended between them and she set the rose on a table near the door. Taking a leather jacket off the coat rack, he intercepted it before she could put it on. Remembering his manners, he held it open for her and she put it on, a smile playing at her lips. Looking over her, he gave a smiling Garcia a nod of greeting and the Tech Goddess held two thumbs up.

"Have fun, you two!" JJ called from out of sight.

"We will! My place is your place!" Emily called back before closing the door with a quiet snick.

Her dark eyes were bright and lively and he just couldn't help but…

A low silvery moan entered his mouth and her thankfully healing nails dug gently into his shoulders. His tentative tongue was accepted immediately and when he let her go, she was panting softly.

"_Damn_…" she breathed dreamily.

Damn was an understatement.


	19. Chapter 19

**Author's Note: Good evening. There's a light at the end of the rerun tunnel. If they're gonna show a new **_**Elementary**_** this week, then chances are that we'll get a new **_**CM**_** next week. I wanna know more about the Creepy Copycat Stalker and see more of Reid/Phone Booth (Maeve). If they finally get to meet, I'm pretty sure that it'll be a BAU way instead of a romantic way but if it means that our favorite genius will finally get laid, then I'm definitely cool with that. Enjoy this week's chapter.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"I've seen all 3 of the movies dozens of times and they never get old. Thanks for inviting me with you." Emily said while chucking her empty soda cup into the main lobby garbage can.

"I've seen all of them too and is it just me or does one the rival bosses in the third one look…"

"…just like a younger Rossi? Mm-hm. I caught that. Maybe he moonlights as an actor in between bestsellers and flirting hatefully with Strauss."

Reid laughed and once again, held her jacket up so she could get into it as they got outside the theater. Emily leaned back against his front afterwards and surprising both of them, his lips pressed chastely to the nape of her neck before he moved away. Turning, she felt her mouth dry out as she met his gaze. While they had their usual 'heart on his sleeve like his watch' openness, there was a depth, a sheer tenderness there that she found riveting.

_He's looking at me like I'm special…like I'm a rare book or a…I don't know what else to compare it to but damn if I don't like it…_

After a few more seconds, a small smile tugged at his lips and he gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

"I'll go get the car."

"Okay."

The setting sun gave his skin a near ethereal glow and she couldn't help but smile at the unique way he jogged. It was a cross between a skip and a fast walk, odd but overall effective…

"You've got a good one there." a heavily accented rasp said from a nearby bench.

Looking over, Emily saw a white haired woman with a walker. She had on a lavender cardigan, a simple white polo, and a pair of dark wash jeans, white orthopedic shoes on her feet. The woman smiled and idly stroked her wedding band, a simple gold band dulled with age and love…

"He reminds me of my Wendell when we were young. He always looked at me like he had all the time in the world to be by my side and he was a gentleman like that. Well, except for in the bedroom but I certainly didn't mind that…" she trailed with a wistful waggle of her brows.

"He sounds like a great man."

"He was. Even when the cancer started to take him, he stayed strong and loving not only for me but for the whole family. Our sons and daughters, our grandchildren, and great-grandchildren…eh. But, like I said. You've got a good one there, girlie. Don't mess it up."

"Yes, ma'am.", Emily replied with yet another smile, watching as the woman stood to meet an approaching mini-van. A man, looking to be in his mid fifties came out and leaned down to accept a kiss from his mother. Before she climbed in the passenger side, the woman winked and she nodded in acceptance, heading for the waiting Jetta.

Looking at Spencer as he reached to open the passenger side door, she felt even more resolve settle in her chest.

He could easily be her Wendell.


	20. Chapter 20

**Author's Note: Good evening, everyone. Okay, instead of a **_**CM**_** rerun we got an award show. Frankly, I would've preferred the rerun but at least this week's **_**Elementary**_** was new and awesome. That's better than nothing. Like I said before, I want to put some sex into this story and this chapter will be the beginning of the naked part. Enjoy today's chapter.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

Like he had outside the theater, Reid pressed a gentle kiss to the nape of her neck. Goosebumps immediately rose up and he kissed more, lingering and making her shiver as he explored. Her skin was creamy with light freckles, set off by the color of her dress. Red and shades of red looked exquisite on her. Hell, everything looked exquisite on her in his eyes, even Kevlar and dirt. Emily hissed as he added a tentative nip to her earlobe and he bit back a groan as her hips pushed back against him firmly, their movement circular.

They stayed like that for a while, her back to his front, his lips following the skin exposed appreciatively by her dress, Emily hissing and squirming against him to get closer. His whole body was heated, a honeyed coil tightening in his gut and tunneling downwards to his groin. She could feel him against her, he knew she could because there was a pleased smile playing at her lips, visible in the small mirror that hung on the hook near the front door. He liked that smile. He wanted to see more of it, preferably as he felt all of her naked skin on his.

She had the same idea because quickly, she pivoted on her sock clad feet and grabbed him by the face into a kiss, deeper than all the previous ones. Reid responded smoothly, his tongue, lips, and teeth meeting hers in a dancing game of tag, retreat and follow. A startled gasp became a husky moan into her mouth as she locked her legs around his middle and his hands instinctively cradled her as her wrists crossed at the nape of his neck. Both of them were flushed with fever and her lips were parted, the lower one just begging to be sucked on…

"Are you sure?" he rasped.

She nodded resolutely and he shivered as her growing nails raked his scalp.

"I want to be in your bed."


	21. Chapter 21

**Author's Note: Oh, my God. I can't even…dear Jesus God, **_**why?**_**As you all know from my previous A/Ns, when Dr. Maeve Donovan's character was introduced, I immediately felt dread. As happy as I was to see Reid seeking and finding a truly viable connection with someone, **_**anyone**_**, even with the Phone Booth cloak and dagger shit…I had a feeling in the pit of my stomach that it would not work out, not in a **_**500 Days of Summer**_** way but in a horrible heartbreaking BAU worthy way. **

**You guys have no idea how much I wish I had been wrong.**

**I'm fucking crying right now and I feel like I'm gonna hurl. **_**Criminal Minds **_**is back with a vengeance in 2013 and they're going straight for the jugular part of my Feels and everyone else's too. Well, goddamn it, if TPTB aren't going to give Reid his happy ending in canon, then I will with this story with Emily and I will with at least one story with Maeve!**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!" (…and I **_**do not**_** want it!)**

Emily's heart was beating hard and fast, her hands trembling even as she gripped his sweater clad arms. Spencer's whole body was trembling and his kisses had a tinge of desperation, of pure want and need that made her whole body flare up with heat. They fell back onto his bed and his left hand went on top of hers palm down, fingers sliding into the spaces and squeezing. His now raspberry lip balm tinted mouth moved away from hers, descending over her chin and burrowing into her neck, making her arch into the touch, her free hand going to his shoulder to urge him closer.

After a few moments, he pulled away and sat up on the bed, pulling her up onto her knees to cup her face, to play with her hair, to look at her with completely focused hazel honey eyes. Neither one of them spoke but she made her whole body language open, welcoming, pleading with him with her eyes to have her, to let her have him, to let her touch, taste, feel…

His hands slid under the hem of her dress and she raised her arms, letting him take it off. His pupils dilated and the irises of his eyes darkened to a rich chocolate. To hell with tiny gauzy gag panties, he was looking at her regular underwear and more importantly her like he wanted to devour her. Holding his gaze, she showed her usual impatience with her bra and pulled it over her head, freeing her breasts. Tenderly, he bent and pressed two soft kisses to the aureoles, his thumbs teasing over her tightening pale tan nipples. Emily moaned and he pushed her back with a soft grunt, standing up and shedding his clothes with no care as to where they landed.

Her tongue went across her lips as she took him in. He was long and lean and his skin was so creamy. She had seen him shirtless before, felt him but this time, there were no Detox symptoms to distract her. Sitting up, she pulled him back on top of her, both of them moaning as hands removed the last barriers between them. He was like an oven and smelled so fucking good, musky and utterly masculine. This was no gangly awkward man-child. This was a grown ass man who knew what he wanted to do and who he wanted to do it to. Dr. Spencer Reid was a grown ass man and he was the only man she wanted…

"_You're so beautiful_."

She had heard it from others, both in and out of bed, but never had she been so certain that he meant it. In response, she bent and spread her knees, two of her fingers parting her lower lips. Two of his slid inside her and Emily gasped, mewing as he moved them in a come-hither motion, finding and working her spot…

"_**Spencer!**_"

"_Shh…just relax and enjoy it. I want to make you feel good_…"

A breathless cry escaped her as his thumb found her throbbing nub, sending delicious electricity lancing from her aching channel upwards. His lips returned to her nipples, kissing and suckling as she squirmed underneath him, trying to get closer, burning to be closer…


	22. Chapter 22

**Author's Note: Hey, peoples. So, even though I still strongly disagree with the decision to keep Maeve dead, I'm very pleased at how the writers are handling the aftermath. MGG's performance was completely believable as a grief stricken man who lost his woman (the scene when he curls up on the couch with Maeve's gift made me sob…) and I like how the team is proactively rallying around him. I felt that they really didn't with the whole Strung Out/Detox thing, which is what prompted this fic in the first place, so it's good to see now. Hopefully, they'll keep it up and hopefully Reid will be better but not healed. Never completely healed.**

**The Olitz (Olivia/Fitz) bug from **_**Scandal**_** has taken a huge bite out of me and they are perfect for Lemon Fuel. I'll be writing something for them soon but you can thank them and their M rated goodness in the Archives for this steamy chapter between Reid and Emily. Oh, and the Italian spoken within here (yeah, I went there…) was translated via Google so if there are any mistakes, let me know and I'll fix them. **

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

Reid could feel her muscles begin to tremble again and he stroked the outside of her legs as they tensed over his shoulders. His tongue explored her intimate skin thoroughly, her scent and taste intoxicating to him. Emily was delightfully responsive and had a full arsenal of noises that drove him mad. She hissed when he played with her saliva coated nipples. She sighed when his tongue dipped inside her, moaned as it moved inside her and panted as he suckled at her throbbing nub between licking up and down the length of her to make her buck and growl…

He heard a loud clang and his eyes flicked up to her flushed face, one hand firmly gripping his wrought iron headboard and the other quickly descending to the back of his head. Anticipating her, he focused his attention solely on her clit, her hand and thighs holding him hostage as she rode his face. He was burning with need, his cock dripping all over the sheets and his body howled at him to join with her, to take her, have her, claim her…

"_**Get up here and fuck me!**_"

The snarling quality of her voice made him shiver and he slid up her smoothly, sure to keep skin on skin until he put his forearms on either side of her head on the pillow. Emily's eyes were feral and ink black, only a ring of chocolate visible around her dilated pupils. Her hands slid down his chest and he felt a jolt of testosterone laced pride as her tongue went across her lips like she was looking at her favorite dessert. Said eyes followed his movements as he reached into his bag, pulling out a freshly bought and unopened box of condoms. She smiled at him softly and spread her knees wider, accepting him, inviting him into her.

Both of them were panting softly but his hands remained steady as he sheathed himself, her hands urging him back to her impatiently. With a soft laugh, he kissed her and she moved her hips against his, the friction making his head swim as he slowly, tenderly, _**finally **_entered her. Emily keened and ran her fingers through his hair, murmuring between kisses to his neck and jaw line…

"…_**così buono**__**... **__**così pieno**__**... **__**mio dio**__**, **__**Spencer**__**...**__** così**__**, **__**così buono**_... (so good...so full...my god, Spencer...so, so good...)"

"…_**Si **__**è solo andare**__**a stare meglio **__**di qui**__**, **__**Emily**__**... **__**bella **__**Emily**__**... **__**Emily **__**squisita**__**...**__**così perfetto**__**...**_(... It is only going to get better from here, Emily...beautiful Emily...exquisite Emily...so perfect...)"

Her delighted giggle quickly became a gasping moan as he started to move, slow and very deep. While he wasn't nearly as experienced as most men his age, he was very good at turning theory into execution. Emily was quivering underneath him, her moans increasing in pitch and frequency as he hitched her legs up further around his waist...

".._.__**more**__...oh god, please more_..."

"_Tell me how._"

"_Faster...harder...want all of you...want to feel you...__**ohhhh.**_.."

He buried his face in her neck and slowly but surely obeyed her. Her hips were swiveling and grinding underneath him, causing more of that delicious friction. Her nails bit and scratched at his back and he could feel a chain of love bites bloom over his neck and shoulder, her moaning mouth intent on him. His fingertips dug into her hips and her hands went to his behind and squeezed firmly, causing him lose his grip on his control. Emily's cries urged him on, the headboard clanging again as they both gripped it, his hand on top of hers. He was moaning loudly, pink tinting his cheeks yet again. She noticed and swiftly reversed their positions, plunging onto him to make him groan and the blush deepen...

"... _**love** hearing you...don't blush...you like what I do to you, Spencer? Do I make you feel good?_"

He nodded mutely, his voice trapped in his throat, his hips snapping up into her slick tight silk.

"_You make me feel so good...so full and warm...you feel so..s-so...oh, god...oh, Spencer...ohhh..._"

Breathless little "ah!"s escaped her as her core began to yield and twitch around him and he hissed, his fingers sliding down and into her humid heat, stroking and loving until she shattered with a high pitched moaning scream, taking him with her with a hoarse shout of her name.


	23. Chapter 23

**Author's Note: Good evening, everyone. This week I was actually glad that it was a rerun. Don't get me wrong, I still desperately want to see what happens with the elusive Team stalker plot but at the same time, my Feels needed the respite. So, going off of what I did with **_**RtD**_**, **_**Support**_** is going to last until the season finale. I'm not sure what I'm gonna do really but there will be more sex involved. Lots of it. Reid and Emily deserve that and more.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

Emily had seen him sleeping before. On the jet, in the backseat of an SUV, at his desk, and one hilarious time that he had been sleeping at the board standing up, marker still poised for action. Then, there were the times outside of the BAU. All the time they spent together through the initial Detox and afterwards, the times she got up in the middle of the night for a glass of water on the way back to the guest room…

Seeing him sleep the sleep of the sexually sated was a completely different animal.

Spencer was on his side next to her, his left arm propped under his pillow. His hair was an absolute wreck. Half of his face was lost in the folds of his pillowcase but the other half was utterly serene, a small smile lingering at his parted lips. The cluster of love bites on his left shoulder became individual ones scattered over his torso. One was right above his left nipple and a sly smile curved her lips at the memory of his delighted cries as she tasted him there. The sheets had slipped down to his knees so she could see the one right above his navel…and the one on his right inner thigh. She pulled the sheet over his hips and he shifted as the heel of her palm went over the patch of hair that his more than skilled penis rested in. He wasn't the biggest man she had been with but he was certainly more than she ever expected. And Lord Jesus, did he know how to use what he had.

He had played her like a symphony. She hadn't expected that. She expected shyness and there had been initially, but once he knew she accepted him, he came at her with abandon, putting his full mind and body into their lovemaking and it _**was**_ lovemaking. Sex didn't come close to defining what they had done and she didn't dare call it fucking. Fucking had too many negative connotations, especially given the nurtured connection between them, a connection that was stronger than ever.

In her previous experiences, once physical intimacy had been added into the mix, Emily felt like they were pulling a plug and the relationship (if there was one…) just withered away. Things were different with Spencer. She was different with Spencer. She could let down her shields and just _**feel**_. Growing up, she had been taught by both her diplomat mother and trial and a shitload of error that uninhibited emotions led to weakness, to hurt and pain…

Dr. Spencer Reid had managed to disprove that idea so far and instinctively, she knew that she could trust him, not just with her body (that he took very, very good care of…) but with everything.

It was disconcerting.

It was exhilarating.


	24. Chapter 24

**Author's Note: Good afternoon, everyone. She lives! Deep apologies, everybody. I got a new laptop and I had to transfer everything over…and get Windows 7 off the damned thing so it would actually work properly. Jeez. The last two episodes were awesome as always, although I think some of the writers must have some unresolved issues from childhood. Two psycho kids in a row? I may not be a profiler but I can put two and two together and get fish. LOL!**

**Post Maeve Reid is still realistic but it still makes me sad to see him not as engaged as he used to be. Logically, I know that he'll never truly be the same and that he'll have new insecurities about his abilities but still…my poor baby. But, never mind that. Like I said before, if Reid in canon can't be happy, then Reid in this story and other I come up with can. **

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

There was a deep molten ache to his muscles as he shifted and he moaned softly as vertebrae in his lower back popped. Opening his eyes to half mast, Reid smiled at the sight of tangled raven hair on his upper torso. Emily's head was on his chest and he could hear the soft snuffling snores that belonged to her. He had heard them on the jet, in a hotel lobby, in the back/front of an SUV, and even at her desk in the wee hours of dark o clock in the morning, much to everyone's amusement...

Hearing them in his bed, hearing them while she was very, very naked in his bed was a completely different and appreciated animal. Gently, his fingers slid into her hair and detangled, his body responding as she shifted into wakefulness.

"_I didn' know you knew Italian_…", she slurred in drowsy contentment.

"I'm a man of many talents."

"Damned right…good morning."

"Hi. Um...should we get up? Do you want to get up? I could take you back to your place if you'd like. I mean, I'm sure JJ and Garcia are waiting for you and…"

His throat closed as she sat up fully and his wide eyes couldn't help but drink her in. Her eyes were alert and soft, the dark chocolate molten. Her lips were swollen and deep pink, smiling and the lower occasionally being nibbled on. Her skin was still creamy, illuminated by the sunlight filtering through the blinds but he could see lover's wounds on her. They weren't bad but they were there, especially the fingertip shaped bruises on her left thigh. Slowly, he touched them and sure enough, his fingertips matched like a glove to hand…

"Don't look like that. They felt good at the time and I don't mind them. It means that last night really happened and I wasn't having yet another dream about us…"

"Y-yet another?" he stuttered hopefully.

"Yet another. Besides, you're not exactly unscathed either, Doctor. Take a look.", she replied wryly.

Sitting up, his brows went up at the sight of the impressive, map like bruising that went from underneath his right ear to the slope of his shoulder. There were scratch marks on his forearms and his hair looked like he had been in a flock of birds in a wind tunnel. Emily was giggling next to him (and those giggles did delightful things to her bare breasts…) and he gave her a look of mock annoyance.

"If I had known that making love with you meant making love with a bobcat, I would've done it sooner."

"Shut up!"


	25. Chapter 25

**Author's Note: Good afternoon, everyone. Okay, let me just say that I really like the humanized Season 8 Erin Strauss. Maybe putting the bottle down got rid of the stick up her butt or maybe she's finally realized that our heroes know what they're doing but yeah, I approve. I'm glad the team finally found the Creeper's hidey-hole and I hope they'll find him/her soon without much bloodshed. I also approve of the new man in Garcia's life. Sure, it's not Morgan but it's still an upgrade away from Lynch and his irritating insecurity/jealousy combo. Post Maeve Reid is still breaking my fragile fangirl heart and I really hope TPTB aren't considering pulling a Gideon with my baby boy. He's got that vibe about him, especially after the latest episode, and although I'd still watch the show if MGG left, it just wouldn't be the same…**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

If she wasn't so exhausted, she'd burst out laughing at the looks of naked shock on their faces. Emily set down her keys and removed her jacket, moving with a fluid grace that screamed. "**I HAD SEX**". Her rose was in water and she ran a light fingertip over one of the petals before removing her boots. Their footsteps followed after her as she made her way to her bedroom, pulling her dress over her head. One of them, most likely Garcia squealed when she spotted the light love wounds left by the good doctor and she matter of factly put her bra on the nightstand before crawling contently under her blankets.

"I'm still not sure if he likes to be called doctor in bed but he _**does**_ like to be bitten and licked. And he's fluent in Italian and French." she informed them matter of factly.

JJ surrendered to giggles and Garcia hopped onto the mattress, hugging her blanket burritoed self with a cat in the cream grin.

"I _**knew**_ it! I knew that underneath that sweater vest clad exterior was a happy little sex beast! And you got him to let it out on the first date! Yay, Emily!" the tech Goddess crowed triumphantly, making Emily grin into her pillows.

"More like sore and sleepy Emily." she corrected primly. "4 times. Well, 4 ½ if you count what he did while we were in the car downstairs."

"Wow, go Spence…is it bad to admit that I'm a little jealous right now?"

"No, it's not. I would be if I were you. Besides, I'm sure your 'sick aunt' down in New Orleans knows how to work it just as well."

JJ walloped her with a nearby pillow and sat at the foot of the bed, neither confirming nor denying. It was actually quite comical the pains the blonde took to hide her relationship with Detective William LaMontagne Jr. from the rest of them. Logically, she understood. The BAU had a way of sucking everything in like a black hole, especially relationships. Hotch's now dead marriage and Rossi's harem of ex-wives proved that all too well. Plus, one part of their team being so tight knit meant that everyone was inevitably in all in each other's business. The rule against profiling each other didn't count for much when the hunches came into play.

Still, it was hilarious.

"So, when are you gonna see each other again?" JJ asked curiously.

"Soon. You know how it is with the job but we'll find a way to carve out some time together for coffee or a movie or…"

"More wild nasty monkey sex." Garcia deadpanned with waggling brows.

"No comment. Going to sleep, now. Same offer from last night still applies."


	26. Chapter 26

**Author's Note: Good evening, everyone. One unfortunate reality about many long running TV shows is that sometimes they peak in earlier seasons and in its later years, it's on just to be on with only a roll of the dice to keep it on air. I am more than happy to say that **_**Criminal Minds**_** has yet to succumb to that. These last two episodes have been on point. I **_**adored**_** how they resolved the loose end of Carl Buford (not to mention Garcia's causal mention of being Mama Morgan's future daughter-in-law) and I said it last season, Shemar Moore needs a goddamned Emmy. Seriously. I was a little leery at the promos for the Time Capsule small town murders but the way they did it, the plot twists they used, especially with the revelation of the UnSub motivating rape not being a rape at all…yes. **_**CM **_**is fiercer than ever and I'm looking forward to what TPTB are gonna do next.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"Holy shit…"

"The date went well. Very well."

The look of big brother pride mixed with horror on Morgan's face made him grin madly. The love bites from Emily had deepened in color and were pleasantly warm. They were able to be covered by clothing and his hair but certain movements, like reaching for free weights exposed the ones on his uppermost neck and behind his ear.

"Wow…I…I need a minute."

"Because I'm the one walking around with hickies or because you know exactly who did it?" he inquired while starting a set of right arm curls.

"Both. Prentiss doesn't strike me as the type to…well, I guess she is but I didn't think _you_…"

"Up until very recently, you didn't think I had sex _at all_, much less the kind to prompt her biting me like I'm her favorite dessert."

"Do _**not**_ make me throw up on you." Morgan threatened flatly before resuming his work on the speed bag.

Reid shrugged and switched arms, using the large mirrored wall in front of him to check his form. He had on a black Champion athletic turtleneck, forest green basketball shorts, white flexible knee braces, mismatched red and white gym socks, and a recently bought pair of rainbow colored running shoes. Working out was a part of his routine: cardio, swimming, and now weight training. Morgan had invited him to his gym, a basement boxing one that looked straight out of the movies, and he had accepted. One good thing that had come from his addiction was a deeper appreciation of the people in his life, especially his teammates. In return, the rest of the BAU plus Garcia made it a point to try to engage him socially, inviting him to hang out or go out. He made a point to seek them out for conversations unrelated to work and in response, they did the same. Reciprocity. Acceptance.

It felt good.


	27. Chapter 27

**Author's Note: Good afternoon, everyone. I'd dance with Reid any day of the week, in his dreams or mine. My baby is still hurting but he's starting to pull himself back together with his own strength and the support of the Team, especially Rossi. I loved how he sought Reid out and I love how Reid opened up to him in the end. Open Reid, even when it's Open Sore Reid is always welcome in my book. But…wasn't he dancing at Will and JJ's wedding? Like seriously dancing? I remember him spinning someone out and pulling them back in like something out the **_**Step Up **_**series but…eh. Never mind. Enjoy the chapter.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

Emily waved a ham and cheese hot pocket under his nose and he absently took a bite, his marker squeaking on fluidly, now on one of their area's glass windows. Occasionally, he would stop and use part of a big bundle of yarn to literally make connections but yeah, her lover (would she ever get used to referring to him as that?) was deep in the Zone. While that was very good case wise, the last thing any of them needed was for him to collapse from genius induced exhaustion.

JJ had met her at the precinct entrance with the hot pocket and Morgan just pointed at their beloved busy, caffeine OD'd bee significantly.

_Shut him down!_

Once he was done with the bite, she waved it again but drew it away before he could capture it. The move happened twice more before the marker finally stopped and he gave her a _**Look**_. In response to said look, she gave him an angelic smile and pointed at the small couch near the doors. His lips twisted one of his 'thinking pouts' and the dragon roar of his stomach granted her victory.

Reid plopped down on the couch and she surrendered the rest of the snack, watching as he devoured it swiftly but with a good amount of manners.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. How long have you been at it?"

"What day is it?"

"Wrong answer, Dr. Reid. You're going to get up from there, you're going to change clothes, and then you're gonna rest for at least an hour…or I'll shoot you.", she declared with sass.

He chuckled and looked up at her through his lashes. His lavender tie had come undone and the sleeves of his black shirt were up, the shirt unbuttoned to show an undershirt now covered with a multitude of marker stains. His dark wash jean clad legs were ever so slightly spread and his tangerine orange sneakers were untied, the laces out to show mismatched day-glo zebra print socks. With his wild hair and the scruff on his face…

"Emily?"

"What?"

He just smirked dirtily, making her roll her eyes fondly.

"If you want me to act on what I was thinking sometime this century, then you need to get moving."

"Yes, ma'am.", he replied sensually before walking…swaggering away past a snickering Morgan.

"Quiet, you!" she scolded playfully before following after her genius with her head held high.


	28. Chapter 28

**Author's Note: Good evening, everyone. Alas, the end. I enjoyed Season 8 of Criminal Minds and the Finale was very good, although it hurt my heart (and Feels…) to see Erin Strauss go. It's amazing. I absolutely despised her at first but thanks to good, **_**consistent **_**(Shonda Rhimes, please take note!) writing and **_**realistic **_**character development over time (seriously, Ms. Rhimes…give Mark Gordon and his crew a call and take some fucking summer school lessons! Sorry…I'm still very, _very_ bitter from SCANDAL's Finale), she became a core part of the BAU family and…I am glad that I wasn't crazy with my conspiracy theory-esque Strauss/Rossi murmurings, even with the sad canon endgame. I'll be sure to write a happy ending for them in my future CM stories…and in this into the future epilogue. **

**Thank you all for your support of **_**Support**_**, your patience with my updating schedule or lack of one, and just enjoying this latest scribble from me and I'll be returning to the fandom soon. With love, ~*CMW2*~**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"Thank you all for doing this. I know we had a rough start…"

"That was just because we needed to get to know and understand each other. Now that we do, everything's aces. You're family." Garcia soothed while putting the finishing touches on her hair.

"You make Rossi happy." JJ declared matter of factly with a radiant smile.

Emily just reached forward and squeezed the bride's trembling hand. Erin Strauss smiled and turned back to the nearby full length mirror. Her dress was beautiful but had a mother earth feel with a scoop neck, cap sleeves, and long flowy material on the bottom. Her silvery blonde hair was curled and piled up, tiny white and periwinkle flowers within it. On her feet were simple white leather flats with a shoelace bow detail and she wore very little makeup, saying that she didn't want to ruin it with her tears.

Those tears were of pure joy, something that if one had asked anyone in the FBI, not just the BAU just 4 years before, that person would say Erin Strauss was incapable of unless she was destroying someone or following protocol to the letter. How wrong they were about her…

Erin's fingers stole to the bracelet on her right wrist. The bracelet was made of white beads and very familiar coins. Spencer had those coins, the first one he wore on a chain around his neck, and the rest he kept in a small box in his messenger's bag. With her help 5 years before, Spencer had wrestled himself free of the Needle. With all of their team's help and Rossi's love, Erin had been freed from the Bottle for going on 4 years. She still kept the BAU in line but she was quick to go to bat for them, if necessary. Her brisk handling of a surly hostage negotiator and a panel of disgruntled senators still lived in infamy…

There was a tap at the door and Emily carefully made her way to it, her hands going protectively over her swollen abdomen. Baby Genius was starting to kick up a storm, meaning that the person at the door was likely…

"_Wow_…I mean, um…is everyone okay? It's almost time." Spencer recovered quickly, even though his gaze stayed riveted on her.

Giggling a little, Emily nodded and fixed his shirt collar. Like their dresses, it was robin's egg blue. White buttons matched the stitching on their dress pants and although he was in black dress shoes, she could see the wedding colors (robin's egg, white, and black) represented on his mismatched polka dotted socks.

"We're all right, Spencer. David hasn't made a run for it yet, has it?" Erin asked wryly.

"No, he's still there. Besides, we laid down the law last night. If he runs, we all get to shoot him. The kill shot would be yours, though."

"And rightfully so. The son of a bitch went and made me fall in love with him, after all. Well, I'm ready to married now."

And in true Erin Strauss decisiveness, she picked up her flowers and went out the door, a laughing Garcia and grinning yet head shaking JJ hot on her heels. She made to follow but Spencer gently stopped her, dropping to his knees to rest his head on her abdomen. Baby Genius' kicking calmed considerably and he pressed a fond kiss to her popped out navel.

"Hi, little one…you being good for your mommy?"

"She is. She's just saying hi."

"Mmm…I can't wait to meet her."

"2 more months, honey. They'll go by fast."

Spencer nodded and rose up, clicking his heels and offering her his arm.

"Shall we?"

"We shall."

Forever.

**FIN.**


End file.
